


A Dad Dating Adventure

by believesinponds



Series: OMGCP Dream Daddy Verse [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Choose Your Own Adventure, M/M, Multi, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12899844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/believesinponds/pseuds/believesinponds
Summary: When you and your daughter move to an old hockey buddy's cul-de-sac, you aren't expecting to meet (and fall for) two Stanley Cup winners.Will the three of you live happily ever after or will everything fall to pieces? It all depends on what you choose![A choose-your-own adventure story inspired by Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator.]





	1. Meet the Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [PBJ_EpiFest_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PBJ_EpiFest_2017) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Media to be Remixed: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator  
> Prompt Details: Bitty as Dadsona, Kent as Joseph, Jack as Robert  
> ~~~~~
> 
> For a guide to characters and various endings, please see the final chapter titled "Author's Notes."

“Welcome to the neighborhood!”

You nearly drop the box of cookbooks in surprise. Your _very_ good-looking next door neighbor is walking toward you with what looks like a plate of cookies.

“Whoa! Easy there, man. Here, let me help.” He steadies the box with his free hand.

(His smile is to die for.)

“Thanks,” you say, hoisting the box up. “I’m just gonna, uh, set this down.” You head for the door. “Come on in!”

Once the box is settled next to the bookshelf in the kitchen, you wipe your hands on your jeans and hold your hand out to your new neighbor. “Eric Bittle.”

He shakes with a surprisingly strong grip. “Kent Parson. Nice to meet you, Eric.”

You do a quick double-take at the name, sure that you must have misheard. You knew Chowder lived on this street, obviously, but what were the chances of moving into a cul-de-sac with a second famous hockey player?

It’s definitely him, though. You aren’t sure how you missed it in the first place. He’s wearing his signature backwards cap with his famous blonde cowlick peeking through and he's smiling just as brightly as you remember from press photos.

“Oh.” You’re not sure how to handle meeting someone so legendary. “Wow. It’s, uh, very nice to meet you Mr. Parson.”

Is it too weird to ask for an autograph? Or maybe a selfie?

“The kids and I made you some brownies as a bit of a welcome. Honestly, it was mostly the kids. And we made them from a box. But, um, I hope you like chocolate?”

Your daughter appears from seemingly nowhere, her eyes on the plate of treats. “How very neighborly! I can take these.”

Kent Parson laughs and hands them over. “All yours, kid.”

You roll your eyes as she takes the entire plate back to her room. “Sorry about that, Mr. Parson. That’s my daughter Amanda. She’s a bit of a classic teenager these days.”

He laughs. “I am _not_ looking forward to that. My oldest is ten and I’m hoping we can just skip the teenage years.” He takes off his hat, runs his hand through his hair, and replaces it all in one smooth motion. “You can call me Kent, by the way.”

“Right. Kent.” You laugh nervously. “Sorry about that. Southern habits die hard.”

He laughs, too. “Well can I give you a hand with the rest of your boxes? They looked kind of heavy.”

“Oh! Well, if you don’t mind, that would be wonderful. I did have two sets of hands for most of it, but Amanda seems to think that if I insist on having heavy-duty kitchen equipment then I should be the one to haul it around.”

You lead Kent back to the truck and point to a few that will take two people to move. “Let’s start with these.”

He obliges, following your lead with the box, and says, “Do you cook a lot?”

“You could say that.” You chuckle. “I host a baking show on YouTube. Started out about eight years ago and, well.” You shrug as modestly as you can while carrying a heavy box. “It’s pretty darn successful these days.”

“That’s really cool. I always thought baking was fun but I’m not great at it. Maybe I’ll have to check out your show and get some tips.”

You do your best to stay cool. Kent Parson, watching your channel, maybe Tweeting a video or two…no big deal at all, right?

“I’ll make sure to send you a link, then.”

You make quick work of the rest of the boxes and shake Kent’s hand in thanks.

“We’re having a little get-together on Saturday.” Kent gives you a bro-ish shoulder slap. “You guys should come. We do cul-de-sac barbecues at our place all the time and I’m sure everyone would want to meet you!”

“That sounds lovely. We’ll be there.”

“Here. Let me give you my number and then I can text you all the details.” He holds out his hand expectantly and you stare at it for a moment before you understand, handing over your phone.

He types something in, then types something else, and after a few seconds his own phone dings and he hands yours back.

“Just texted myself so I could have yours, too. I’ll send you that info!”

You look down at the screen and see a new conversation. He even added a hockey stick emoji next to his name, which—okay, obviously he knows that you know. You do your best to smile and wave goodbye while he heads back to his own house.

Kent Parson.

Damn.

Seems like you moved to a good neighborhood.

~

After a long day of unpacking, Amanda goes to a friend’s house and you decide that you deserve a drink. You don’t know any of the bars in the area, but you figure you’ll find something if you walk downtown. You head inside the first decent-looking place, _Totster’s_ , and order a beer. There are several open stools, so you take a seat in the one that will give you the best view of the game and nod your thanks to the very tall bartender as he slides you a beer.

“Sup, dude?”

You definitely _do not_  you choke on your drink in surprise.

A short person with jet-black hair and an epic undercut slides into the seat next to you.

“Um.” You wipe a bit of spilled beer off your face. “Hi?”

They tilt their chin up in a nod. “Good to see some fresh meat in here. Name’s Lardo.”

You shake their hand. “Eric.”

“You watching the game?”

“Uh, yeah.” You glance back up in time to see one of your favorite players score their second goal of the game. “Just hoping we’ll pull through and beat these guys.”

“Cheers, bro.” They hold out their drink and you clink your glass against it.

“Cheers,” you echo.

You lapse into silence while you watch the last period. Lardo seems pretty cool. You’re about to say something else to them when the same player scores again. You pump your fist in the air and let out a “yeah!” as the crowd screams. Gameplay stops for a minute while they clear out all the hats and you notice that the man sitting a few stools down seems to be brooding over his drink.

“You enjoyin’ the game?”

He grunts. “Would be if we were still winning.”

“Oh. I guess we’re rooting for different teams.”

“Guess so.”

You share a brief nod and sip the rest of your beer. The brooding man motions for two more from the bartender and slides one toward you.

“I’m Jack.”

You lift the new glass and smile. “Eric.”

“You new around here?”

“Yeah.” You wipe a bit of foam from your lip. “Just moved from across town.”

“Looks like you met Lardo already, huh?”

Lardo nods at him across the bar. “You gonna make it through the rest of this game, Jackie?”

“Fuck you.” It looks like Jack is smiling a little.

Weird.

The three of you watch the rest of the game together, you and Lardo chirping Jack when his team loses. Jack orders a round of shots and you only hesitate a moment before agreeing. Amanda’s out for the night, you don’t need to be home any time soon.

“You know, Jack, one of these days you’re going to have to accept that your team is shit,” Lardo says, knocking back a shot and tapping the counter for another.

“We’re just going through a rough patch.” Jack orders another round. “We’ll bounce back.”

Lardo takes their shot without the slightest wince. They might be the coolest person you’ve ever met.

You clink your glass with Jack and _absolutely_ wince as it goes down. You’re much more of a beer guy, but you did tell your daughter you’d try to make some friends and a few shots never hurt anybody.

Three shots later you’re laughing too hard to care that you’re past the point of tipsy. Lardo is doing a Grumpy Jack impression that makes Jack look even grumpier and you’re trying to drink a respectable amount of water without spewing it everywhere. (And there’s definitely a smile hidden somewhere in that grumptastic expression, you’re sure of it.)

Jack shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair. Something shiny catches the light and you squint at him.

“That’s one fine-lookin’ ring you’ve got there, sir.”

He sticks his hand in his pocket and takes another sip of whiskey.

Before you can apologize for embarrassing him, Lardo snorts.

“Jesus. You actually wore your _ring?_ Looking to score tonight, Zimmermann?”

Your jaw drops. “Zimmermann?”

“Thanks, Lards.”

Lardo looks a little sheepish. You only barely notice, though, because—“Zimmermann? Like—?”

“Jack Zimmermann. Yeah.”

“So that ring is your—”

“Yeah.”

You blink.

You turn to look at Lardo, who shakes their head so slightly you’re not sure if you see it.

You look back at Jack—Jack _Zimmermann_ —and his face has lost all of its subtle hints of having fun.

“Well. No wonder you were cheering for the other team tonight. I suppose even fifteen years of shitty playing can’t make you abandon your boys.”

“Fifteen!” Jack slams his hand on bar. “Are you kidding me? It has not been _fifteen_ years of--what game have _you_ been watching?”

Lardo downs the last of their drink and pats you on the shoulder. “Nice,” they whisper. Then they jump off their stool and say, “I’m gonna go see if I can catch something pretty tonight.” They punch Jack’s shoulder as they walk past. “Stay sleazy, boys!”

“I'm just sayin’, Mr. Zimmermann, they haven't seen a championship since you called it quits.” You take a pointed sip from your water.

“We made it to playoffs _three times_ since I retired--”

“Yeah and two of those times you didn't make it past the first round--”

“And there are plenty of good players left. It's a _team sport_ , you can't just--”

“It may be a team sport, but that don't mean nothin’ when your entire team is shit, Mr. Zimmermann!”

Jack tips back the rest of his drink (and you do _not_ watch his throat as he swallows) before turning to you with a grimace. “Fuck. You're right.” He sighs and waves down the bartender. “I’m calling it. You heading in my direction?”

You’re not sure where the sudden change in mood came from, but you finish off the rest of your water and only choke on it a little. “Um. I just moved into the cul-de-sac a couple blocks down.”

Jack laughs, smoothly paying both your bills. “Whaddya know. That’s where I live, too.”

You stare at him for a moment. “Lord almighty. How many Stanley Cup winners do we got on our block?”

“Only three.” Jack smiles. “Walk home with me?”

You follow after him, blushing when Lardo sends you a too-obvious wink from the lap of an attractive-looking girl.

The night air is cool against your skin. You catch up to Jack and walk next to him in silence. He doesn't seem to like talking all that much, but that’s okay—it only takes a couple minutes to get back to your street. Jack stops in front of the driveway two houses down from yours.

“So. Uh.” He peers down at you. “Are we doing this thing, or?”

You blink up at him, still a little slow from the alcohol. “Um. What?”

Jack scratches the back of his neck. “Do you...want to come inside?”

“Oh.” You blush. “Um.” You don’t have anything better to do tonight, and it _has_ been a while... “Yeah.”

Jack grins and pulls you up to the front door. Before you even get inside he puts his hand on the back of your neck and tugs you up for a kiss. A _really_ _good_ kiss. You stand up on your tip toes and weave your fingers through his hair, pressing harder against him, and you think he’s trying to fumble for his keys but you ignore it and nip at his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

The door finally opens somehow and you’re being pulled inside, still kissing the living daylights out of each other. Jack pulls you along, heading toward the back of the house where you assume there’s a bedroom--it’s too dark to actually tell, though, and you _really_ don’t care.

His hands roam down your back and his fingers slide up under your shirt. He traces your belt, moving toward the buckle, and you let out a shaky breath.

Jack pauses. “Do you want to stop?”

You hesitate and wonder if this is a good idea. You just moved here, just met this man an hour ago. Sure, he’s _Jack Fucking Zimmermann_ , but that doesn’t mean you should just let him jump into your pants.

On the other hand, it's been a great night so far and it really  _has_ been a while since you've had the chance to sleep with somebody…

**Option A: “No. I don’t want to stop.”**

**Option B: “Yeah. I think we should stop.”**

 

\---

 

**Option A: “No. I don’t want to stop.”**

“No. I don’t want to stop.”

Jack doesn’t say anything else. He tugs open your belt and unsnaps your jeans, all the while pushing you back toward the bed. You push his shirt up and over his head, marveling at the _fantastic_ body underneath. Your hands roam over his abs--former NHL abs--and you might just swoon a little.

He pushes you onto the mattress and hovers over you. “How do you wanna do this?”

His cheeky grin is too much for you. You pull him into another kiss, all teeth and moans, and slot one of your legs between his. He responds immediately, pressing his hips against you, and you can feel him against your thigh.

“Let’s just see how it goes.”

~

Your head is pounding. The bed feels softer than usual and you’re pretty sure the fan is ticking at the wrong rate. You crack open an eye and wince at the pile of laundry on the chair next to the bed.

That is definitely not your laundry.

Or your chair.

“Rise and shine, Bittle! Time to go.”

Jack Zimmermann is sitting on the ottoman in front of the not-your-laundry-or-chair chair. He looks like he’s about to go on a morning run and you scowl at him.

“Really? You’re kicking me out?”

He pats his abs. “Gotta keep in shape. You wanna come?”

You huff. “No.”

“Then I’m afraid this is where we part ways.” He grabs your clothes from the floor and tosses them at you. “I need to be out the door in five minutes to meet Parse.”

Fucking former professional athletes. You slide into your jeans and pull your button-up over your bare chest. It only takes you two minutes to get back to your front door, and you frown at Jack and Kent through the peephole for a moment before trudging into the kitchen.

“You doin’ the Walk of Shame there, Daddio?”

You jump about a foot into the air and level a glare at your daughter. “What on Earth are you doing up this early, Amanda Ann?”

She sets her cup of coffee on the table and frowns at you. “Going to school? You know, senior year? Teachers imparting that good ol’ wisdom and whatnot?”

Oh, shit, it’s only Thursday.

“Ah. Right. You wanna take some leftovers for lunch, sweetheart?”

Amanda points at her backpack on the chair next to her. “Already got ‘em. Thanks, though.”

You stare at her for a moment and realize that she’s really matured over the last several months. You’re proud, of course—you’ve raised her to be an independent young woman. Still, it makes you feel a little…melancholy. She’s growing up too fast.

“Hey.” She grabs a large envelope from the center of the table and holds it up. She looks nervous. “This was in the mailbox.”

You look closer and see the logo for her number one school. It’s a big, thick envelope.

“Good Lord. Did you open it yet?”

“Nah. I was waiting for you.”

It takes you about two seconds to pull up the camera on your phone and switch it to video mode. “Well go on and open it, Panda.”

She lets out a long breath, closes her eyes, and tears it open. A packet, a colorful booklet, and several small cards fall out. She skims through the first page of the packet, her smile growing wider and wider, and then she looks up at you with the biggest grin you’ve seen since the first time you took her to Disneyland.

“I got in, Pops.”

Your eyes are a little misty. “You got in?”

She jumps up from her seat and crashes into you, jumping and yelling, “I got in! I got in!”

You drop your phone on the table and envelop her in a tight hug, jumping along with her and laughing through your tears. “You got in! Great job, baby!” You pull back enough to cup her face between your hands and wipe away one of her tears. “I’m so proud of you, Amanda.”

She hugs you again, her face leaking on your shirt, and says, “Thanks, Daddy.”

You press a kiss to her forehead and wipe your own eyes. “You better get on to school, then. Don’t want them to rescind their offer now, do you?”

She rolls her eyes and shoves at your shoulder. “That’s not really how it works, Pops.” With her backpack slung over her shoulder and a travel mug full of coffee in her hand, she already looks like a college student.

You do your best not to cry again as she calls goodbye and hurries out the door.

[PROCEED TO [Chapter 2: Time for a Date](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12899844/chapters/29470044)]

 

\---

 

**Option B: “Yeah. I think we should stop.”**

“Yeah. I think we should stop.”

Jack nods. “Probably a good idea.”

You place a hand on his chest and smile. “Thanks for a fun night, Mr. Zimmermann. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

His face almost softens and he nods again. “I’d like that, uh—I don’t actually know your last name.”

You laugh and step out of his arms. “Bittle. Eric Bittle.”

He grins back at you. “Okay then, Bittle. We should definitely do it again sometime.”

“Definitely.” You wave and turn back towards the door, re-buckling your belt as you go.

~

Your head is pounding. It’s too early to be up, but the noise from the kitchen is making it impossible to sleep. You find your daughter stirring creamer into a cup of coffee and glare at her. “What on Earth are you doing up this early, Amanda Ann?”

She sets her cup on the table and frowns at you. “Going to school? You know, senior year? Teachers imparting that good ol’ wisdom and whatnot?”

Oh, shit, it’s only Thursday.

“Ah. Right. You wanna take some leftovers for lunch, sweetheart?”

Amanda points at her backpack on the chair next to her. “Already got ‘em. Thanks, though.”

You stare at her for a moment and realize that she’s really matured over the last several months. You’re proud, of course—you’ve raised her to be an independent young woman. Still, it makes you feel a little…melancholy. She’s growing up too fast.

“Hey.” She grabs a large envelope from the center of the table and holds it up. She looks nervous. “This was in the mailbox.”

You look closer and see the logo for her number one school. It’s a big, thick envelope.

“Good Lord. Did you open it yet?”

“Nah. I was waiting for you.”

It takes you about two seconds to pull up the camera on your phone and switch it to video mode. “Well go on and open it, Panda.”

She lets out a long breath, closes her eyes, and tears it open. A packet, a colorful booklet, and several small cards fall out. She skims through the first page of the packet, her smile growing wider and wider, and then she looks up at you with the biggest grin you’ve seen since the first time you took her to Disneyland.

“I got in, Pops.”

Your eyes are a little misty. “You got in?”

She jumps up from her seat and crashes into you, jumping and yelling, “I got in! I got in!”

You drop your phone on the table and envelop her in a tight hug, jumping along with her and laughing through your tears. “You got in! Great job, baby!” You pull back enough to cup her face between your hands and wipe away one of her tears. “I’m so proud of you, Amanda.”

She hugs you again, her face leaking on your shirt, and says, “Thanks, Daddy.”

You press a kiss to her forehead and wipe your own eyes. “You better get on to school, then. Don’t want them to rescind their offer now, do you?”

She rolls her eyes and shoves at your shoulder. “That’s not really how it works, Pops.” With her backpack slung over her shoulder and a travel mug full of coffee in her hand, she already looks like a college student.

You do your best not to cry again as she calls goodbye and hurries out the door.

[PROCEED TO [Chapter 3: Date Time](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12899844/chapters/29470065)]

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***DO NOT USE THE "NEXT CHAPTER" BUTTONS!!!***
> 
> To follow your chosen story, make sure to navigate by clicking the links or scrolling/skipping to the directed part of the text.  
> (You won't read every chapter. That's okay. If you'd like a guide to various endings, see the final chapter of author's notes.)


	2. Time for a Date

The cul-de-sac barbecue ends up being fun. Jack is friendly enough, but he doesn’t touch your pie and he spends most of the time drinking with Lardo and Shitty. Instead of worrying about it, you catch up with Chowder, Caitlin, and Nursey and meet their partner Dex. Amanda immediately latches onto Dex’s ten-year-old, Daisy, and you can’t help but think that she would have made an excellent big sister.

You leave the gathering with a promise to hang out again and collapse into your bed, thoroughly done with all social interaction for at least a week.

~

Two weeks later you find yourself with an entire Saturday free of plans. You look down at your phone and frown. Your conversation with Kent is at the top, your most recent text a string of emoji reacting to a picture of his youngest playing with the cat. Several spaces down your eyes linger on Jack’s last text, a simple “haha” in response to a _hilarious_ hockey joke that you sent him. (You know he isn’t all that verbose through text messages, though—he most likely thought that “haha” was the best way to express his genuine amusement.)

Your finger hovers between the two conversations while you deliberate.

**Option A: Text Kent**

**Option B: Text Jack**

 

\---

 

**Option A: Text Kent**

You open the convo with Kent and shoot him a quick message. He responds immediately.

 **Kent Parson  
** _Bitty! Thank god. I’m actually kind of desperate for some help this afternoon if you don’t mind?_

 **Eric Bittle  
** _oh, sure! what exactly are you needing help with, mr. parson?_

 **Kent Parson**  
_I’m supposed to be running practice tonight and I promised the kids I would bring some kind of amazing treat, but I totally forgot and I do not have time to make anything.  
_ _Can you help a guy out?_

You’re already going through the freezer for your back-up cookie dough.

 **Eric Bittle**  
_i’ve got some cookie dough that’s ready to go! only takes ten minutes  
_ _you go ahead and pre-heat the oven and i’ll be over in a jiffy!_

 **Kent Parson  
** _You are a goddamn lifesaver, Eric Bittle <3_

 **Eric Bittle  
** _oh hush_

You’re not blushing. Definitely not. Your cheeks are just a little chilled from the freezer, that’s all.

You grab both logs of dough and head next door, where Kent and Lardo’s oldest is waiting for you.

“Um, hey there Robby. Your dad inside?”

He shrugs.

“O-kay. I’ll just…head in, then?”

He rolls his eyes and walks away. You aren’t sure how to interpret the action, but it doesn’t matter—Lardo opens the front door and lets you in.

“Sorry about him. He’s been a little…moody lately.” They watch him cross the street and knock on Dex and Nursey’s door. “He’ll be fine.”

“No problem at all. I’m just here to bake some emergency cookies with your husband.”

Lardo snorts. “I told him to make something yesterday. Dumbass.” They roll their eyes, too, and you can definitely see where Robby gets it from. “Come on in, Bits.”

Kent has laid out two cookie sheets and you see that the oven is on and heating up.

“Seriously, Bits, thank you. You’re saving me from bringing store bought cupcakes or something.”

“And that’s what he did last time,” Lardo says, punching Kent in the arm. “You gotta stop making promises you won’t remember to keep, Kenneth.”

You laugh and set the cookie dough on the counter. “Well, this should be quick and easy, so it’s no trouble. I just need a couple spoons and a helper!”

Kent produces two spoons from the dishwasher and hands one to you. “As much as I’d love to, Bitty, I just don’t think we have time for spooning right now.”

“We have time for spooning, Mr. Parson. Just as long as we don’t move into _forking.”_

You laugh as Lardo throws up their hands and leaves the room, muttering something about dad jokes. Kent grins and you wink back.

The cookies get baked in record time and you find yourself riding with Kent to the rink, holding the warm container and letting the steam out every few minutes.

While the kids and coaches warm up, you find Chowder and Dex in the bleachers.

“Hey, guys. Are your girls on Kent’s team?”

Chowder pulls you down next to them. “Yep! They tend to get a little competitive during practice, though, so we try to stick around and keep an eye out.”

“Competitive, huh?” You side-eye them both. “Wonder where they get that from.”

Dex reaches across Chowder and shoves your shoulder. “You can shut it, Bittle. Our girls are the best ones out there _hands-down_.”

“Absolutely.” Chowder places a hand on Dex’s knee. “They just need to…learn a little more about sportsmanship, that’s all.”

You settle in to watch the team scrimmage, cheering along with Chowder and Dex when one of the girls get their hands on the puck. Everyone in the small audience goes nuts when Daisy makes an impressive save and soon after the coaches are calling all the kids in for a short talk before they head back to the locker rooms.

“That was fun!” you tell Kent as soon as he’s off the ice. You hand over the cookies and he passes them on to one of the team moms.

“Come on. I need a break from the screaming.” Kent grabs your hand and leads you down the hall, past the locker rooms and storage closets, around a corner, and into a much smaller room that turns out to be his office.

For some reason you expected to see trophies and old Aces memorabilia, but instead it’s full of family photos, little league jerseys, and way too much cat stuff for one small room.

“Literally everyone I know has gotten me some kind of cat-themed gift for my birthday every year for the past ten years.” Kent lifts a small cat-shaped pencil sharpener from his desk. “Shitty started it. I kept complaining about the pencil sharpener in the staff room and instead of buying me a mechanical pencil like a normal person, he got this.”

You take the sharpener from him and admire the glittery bow on the cat’s head. “To be fair, this is a much better gift than a mechanical pencil. Although.” You lift another item from his desk. “Looks like someone got you one of those, anyway?”

He laughs. “Yep. That one’s from Jack. He didn’t know where to find a mechanical pencil with cats on it, so he asked Val if he could have her pink cat eraser and then stuck it on a cheap one he got from work.”

Val? You’re sure Jack hasn’t mentioned a Val, but Kent drops the name like you should know who he’s talking about. You do your best to hide your confusion.

“Well that certainly sounds like something Jack would do,” you say, setting both items back on Kent’s desk.

“Hey.” Kent nudges you. He’s smiling softly and it takes you a too-long moment to take your eyes off his lips to meet his gaze. “Thanks again for helping out tonight, Bits. I know we didn’t really get to spend much time together, but it was cool having you here. And I promise our next date won’t include an entire hockey team of preteens.”

You elbow him gently, trying to hide your blush. “It was nothing. But I’m gonna hold you to that, Mr. Parson.”

He winks, which only makes you blush harder.

Of course, the moment is broken when the door bursts open and three girls come running in, shouting about Lord-knows-what. You take a minute to thank your lucky stars that Amanda took drawing classes instead of being on a sports team.

~

The next morning you send a quick “hello” to Jack, who you haven’t heard from in a few days, and then devote some quality father-daughter time to watching _Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Truckers_. After too many hours marathonning, you and Amanda bake mini pies for a new video and you’re so excited about the footage that you stay up way too late editing.

You finally lie down in bed and you're just on the verge of sleep when your phone dings several times in quick succession. Your eyes squint against the bright light as you look at the screen in confusion. Who would be texting you at this hour?

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_hey_  
_bittle  
_ _you up?_

Ah. Of course. You’ve learned over the past few weeks that Jack does not get nearly enough sleep for a functioning human. The phone dings again.

 **Jack Zimmermann  
** _you should come over ;)_

You frown at the time. It would probably be best to go back to sleep. Right?

You bite your lip.

Amanda's already asleep for the night and it _was_ good the last time.

Your fingers hesitate over the tiny keyboard.

 **Eric Bittle  
** _on my way_

You knock on his door and glance down at the plastic container in your hand. Is it weird to bring mini pies to a booty call? You're considering turning back when the front door opens.

“Hey.”

He’s wearing a pair of low-slung pajama pants and that’s about it.

“Um.” You’re definitely blushing. “Hey.” Those _abs_ , though. “I, uh, had some of these left over so I-”

Jack pulls you inside by the front of your shirt, slams the door, and before you know it you're being thoroughly kissed. You only remember the pies when you try to put your hand in his hair and end up smacking him with the plastic container.

“What the--oh.” He raises an eyebrow and you can almost feel the judgement from that smirk. “You brought pie. What did you think we were going to do, Bittle?”

“I knew what we were going to do!” You can feel your cheeks heating up. “But my mama raised me to be polite, Mr. Zimmermann, and I wasn’t gonna show up empty-handed.”

Jack snorts. “So you brought pie.”

“Well, I--”

Jack shuts you up with another searing kiss and takes the container from your hand. “Thanks.” He sets the container of pies on the counter and drags you toward his bedroom. “Let’s go.”

~

You wake up to the morning sun beating in through the open curtains. Jack is sitting on the corner of the bed, tying his bright yellow running shoes. You squint up at him.

“You kickin’ me out again, Mr. Zimmermann?”

He laughs. “Unless you wanna come for a run this time.”

The clock on your lockscreen reads 6:07 am. You glare at him. “What are earth are you running this early for?”

“Gotta keep my form,” he says, patting his (seriously excellent) abs. He grabs your pants from the floor and tosses them at you. “Sorry, buddy.”

You grumble and put on a show of sitting up and pulling your pants on. You shoot Jack a too-bright smile as you walk out the door, your container of mini-pies in your hands. (“I probably won’t get to them and I wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”)

“See you around,” Jack says.

You give him a small wave. “See ya.”

Amanda is waiting for you in the kitchen when you get inside. She looks about as good as you feel. “Long night, Pops?”

You frown at her and toss the mini pies onto the counter. “You could say that.” She looks like she’s going to make a comment, probably something snarky, and on a normal day you’d be proud. Today isn’t exactly normal. “Sorry, Panda, I’m not up for much right now. I think I’m gonna go take a shower.”

She sets her coffee mug on the table and wraps you in a big hug. “Love you, Popsicle.”

Your eyes water, probably because of allergies.

You put on Beyoncé (her latest album is _revolutionary_ ) and take a long shower. By the time you get back to the kitchen, Amanda is gone. You heat up last night’s leftovers for breakfast and settle down in front of a _Real Shark Hunters of Orange County_ marathon.

[PROCEED TO [Chapter 4: Dealing with Everything](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12899844/chapters/29470071)]

 

\---

 

**Option B: Text Jack**

You send Jack a message asking what he’s up to, but he doesn’t reply. You figure he might be busy and settle in to watch some _Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Truckers_. Of course, it’s an episode you’ve seen before, so you head into the kitchen and preheat the oven while you whip up a batch of cookie dough.

Just as you slide the sheet of cookies into the oven, your phone dings. You rush back to the living room to check, but it isn’t Jack responding to your message. It’s Kent.

 **Kent Parson  
** _Bitty! I am in serious need of some help right now._

You chuckle to yourself.

 **Eric Bittle  
** _what exactly are you needing help with, mr. parson?_

 **Kent Parson**  
_I’m supposed to be running practice tonight and I promised the kids I would bring some kind of amazing treat, but I totally forgot and I do not have time to make anything.  
_ _Any chance you can hook me up?_

 **Eric Bittle  
** _you are very much in luck, sir. i just threw a batch of cookies in the oven. give me fifteen minutes and i’ll bring them over?_

 **Kent Parson  
** _You are a goddamn lifesaver, Eric Bittle <3_

 **Eric Bittle  
**_oh hush_  

You’re not blushing. Definitely not. Your cheeks are just a little warm from the oven, that’s all. You throw a second pan of cookies in the oven and run to check your hair while they’re cooking. Twelve minutes later you’re at Kent’s door, facing down his oldest kid, a container full of hot cookies in your hand.

“Um, hey there Robby. Your dad inside?”

He shrugs.

“O-kay. I’ll just…head in, then?”

He rolls his eyes and walks away. You aren’t sure how to interpret the action, but it doesn’t matter—Lardo opens the front door and lets you in.

“Sorry about him. He’s been a little…moody lately.” They watch him cross the street and knock on Dex and Nursey’s door. “He’ll be fine.”

“No problem at all. I’m just here with some emergency cookies for your husband.”

Lardo snorts. “I told him to make something yesterday. Dumbass.” They roll their eyes, too, and you can definitely see where Robby gets it from. “Come on in, Bits.”

Kent rushes down the stairs and beams at you. “Seriously, Bits, thank you. You’re saving me from bringing store bought cupcakes or something.”

“And that’s what he did last time,” Lardo says, punching Kent in the arm. “You gotta stop making promises you won’t remember to keep, Kenneth.”

You laugh and set the cookies on the counter. “Well, this was quick and easy so it’s no big deal at all.”

Kent raises an eyebrow. “Your face is quick and easy.”

You narrow your eyes. “That’s what your daddy said last night.”

You both laugh as Lardo throws up their hands and leaves the room, muttering something about dad jokes. Kent grins and you wink back.

Somehow you find yourself riding with Kent to the rink, holding the warm container and letting the steam out every few minutes.

While the kids and coaches warm up, you find Chowder and Dex in the bleachers.

“Hey, guys. Are your girls on Kent’s team?”

Chowder pulls you down next to them. “Yep! They tend to get a little competitive during practice, though, so we try to stick around and keep an eye out.”

“Competitive, huh?” You side-eye them both. “Wonder where they get that from.”

Dex reaches across Chowder and shoves your shoulder. “You can shut it, Bittle. Our girls are the best ones out there _hands-down_.”

“Absolutely.” Chowder places a hand on Dex’s knee. “They just need to…learn a little more about sportsmanship, that’s all.”

You settle in to watch the team scrimmage, cheering along with Chowder and Dex when one of the girls get their hands on the puck. Everyone in the small audience goes nuts when Daisy makes an impressive save and soon after the coaches are calling all the kids in for a short talk before they head back to the locker rooms.

“That was fun!” you tell Kent as soon as he’s off the ice. You hand over the cookies and he passes them on to one of the team moms.

“Come on. I need a break from the screaming.” Kent grabs your hand and leads you down the hall, past the locker rooms and storage closets, around a corner, and into a much smaller room that turns out to be his office.

For some reason you expected to see trophies and old Aces memorabilia, but instead it’s full of family photos, little league jerseys, and way too much cat stuff for one small room.

“Literally everyone I know has gotten me some kind of cat-themed gift for my birthday every year for the past ten years.” Kent lifts a small cat-shaped pencil sharpener from his desk. “Shitty started it. I kept complaining about the pencil sharpener in the staff room and instead of buying me a mechanical pencil like a normal person, he got this.”

You take the sharpener from him and admire the glittery bow on the cat’s head. “To be fair, this is a much better gift than a mechanical pencil. Although.” You lift another item from his desk. “Looks like someone got you one of those, anyway?”

He laughs. “Yep. That one’s from Jack. He didn’t know where to find a mechanical pencil with cats on it, so he asked Val if he could have her pink cat eraser and then stuck it on a cheap one he got from work.”

Val? You’re sure Jack hasn’t mentioned a Val, but Kent drops the name like you should know who he’s talking about. You do your best to hide your confusion.

“Well that certainly sounds like something Jack would do,” you say, setting both items back on Kent’s desk.

“Hey.” Kent nudges you. He’s smiling softly and it takes you a too-long moment to take your eyes off his lips to meet his gaze. “Thanks again for helping out tonight, Bits. I know we didn’t really get to spend much time together, but it was cool having you here. And I promise our next date won’t include an entire hockey team of preteens.”

You elbow him gently, trying to hide your blush. “It was nothing. But I’m gonna hold you to that, Mr. Parson.”

He winks, which only makes you blush harder.

Of course, the moment is broken when the door bursts open and three girls come running in, shouting about Lord-knows-what. You take a minute to thank your lucky stars that Amanda took drawing classes instead of being on a sports team.

~

After a long and exhausting day with pre-teen hockey players, you're finally in bed. You’re just on the verge of sleep when your phone dings several times in quick succession. Your eyes squint against the bright light as you look at the screen in confusion. Who would be texting you at this hour?

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_hey_  
_bittle  
_ _you up?_

Oh, Jack is texting you back. Eighteen hours later.

 **Jack Zimmermann  
** _you should come over ;)_

You frown at the time. It would probably be best to go back to sleep. Right?

You bite your lip.

Amanda's already asleep for the night and it _was_ good the last time.

Your fingers hesitate over the tiny keyboard.

 **Eric Bittle  
** _on my way_

You knock on his door and glance down at the plastic container in your hand. Is it weird to bring mini pies to a booty call? You're considering turning back when the front door opens.

“Hey.”

He’s wearing a pair of low-slung pajama pants and that’s about it.

“Um.” You’re definitely blushing. “Hey.” Those _abs_ , though. “I, uh, had some of these left over so I-”

Jack pulls you inside by the front of your shirt, slams the door, and before you know it you're being thoroughly kissed. You only remember the pies when you try to put your hand in his hair and end up smacking him with the plastic container.

“What the--oh.” He raises an eyebrow and you can almost feel the judgement from that smirk. “You brought pie. What did you think we were going to do, Bittle?”

“I knew what we were going to do!” You can feel your cheeks heating up. “But my mama raised me to be polite, Mr. Zimmermann, and I wasn’t gonna show up empty-handed.”

Jack snorts. “So you brought pie.”

“Well, I--”

Jack shuts you up with another searing kiss and takes the container from your hand. “Thanks.” He sets the container of pies on the counter and drags you toward his bedroom. “Let’s go.”

~

You wake up to the morning sun beating in through the open curtains. Jack is sitting on the corner of the bed, tying his bright yellow running shoes. You squint up at him.

“You kickin’ me out again, Mr. Zimmermann?”

He laughs. “Unless you wanna come for a run this time.”

The clock on your lockscreen reads 6:07 am. You glare at him. “What are earth are you running this early for?”

“Gotta keep my form,” he says, patting his (seriously excellent) abs. He grabs your pants from the floor and tosses them at you. “Sorry, buddy.”

You grumble and put on a show of sitting up and pulling your pants on. You shoot Jack a too-bright smile as you walk out the door, your container of mini-pies in your hands. (“I probably won’t get to them and I wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”)

“See you around,” Jack says.

You give him a small wave. “See ya.”

Amanda is waiting for you in the kitchen when you get inside. She looks about as good as you feel. “Long night, Pops?”

You frown at her and toss the mini pies onto the counter. “You could say that.” She looks like she’s going to make a comment, probably something snarky, and on a normal day you’d be proud. Today isn’t exactly normal. “Sorry, Panda, I’m not up for much right now. I think I’m gonna go take a shower.”

She sets her coffee mug on the table and wraps you in a big hug. “Love you, Popsicle.”

Your eyes water, probably because of allergies.

You put on Beyoncé (her latest album is _revolutionary_ ) and take a long shower. By the time you get back to the kitchen, Amanda is gone. You heat up last night’s leftovers for breakfast and settle down in front of a _Real Shark Hunters of Orange County_ marathon.

[PROCEED TO [Chapter 4: Dealing with Everything](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12899844/chapters/29470071)]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***DO NOT USE THE "NEXT CHAPTER" BUTTONS!!!***
> 
> To follow your chosen story, make sure to navigate by clicking the links or scrolling/skipping to the directed part of the text.  
> (You won't read every chapter. That's okay. If you'd like a guide to various endings, see the final chapter of author's notes.)


	3. Date Time

The cul-de-sac barbecue ends up being a great time. Your conversation with Kent begins with a discussion of grilling techniques (which he has perfected beyond anyone else in the cul-de-sac, according to him) and somehow morphs into you telling him and Jack embarrassing stories about Chowder and Nursey from college.

“Is that why you’ve always had a green couch in your entertainment room?” Jack asks.

Caitlin sighs, but Chowder smiles brightly and says, “Yep! The girls always have their pre-game snacks on it.”

“It’s not…the same one, though.” Kent looks a little grossed out. “Right?”

“It most certainly is not,” you say, straightening your shoulders. “I had that couch destroyed the minute I got the keys to the Haus.”

“Chowder cried for three days,” Nursey adds.

Everyone bursts into laughter and Chowder punches Nursey’s shoulder.

“Derek and I ended up buying him a new one as an early birthday present before the season started.” Caitlin rolls her eyes. “Whenever it gets too gross we just buy him another one.”

Nursey slings an arm around Chowder’s shoulder and kisses his cheek. “Somehow he never sees it coming.”

Amanda immediately latches onto Dex’s ten-year-old, Daisy. They spend most of the day pretending to drive haunted semi-trucks down a dangerous icy road while solving paranormal mysteries and you can’t help but think that she would have made an excellent big sister.

All in all it’s a great day. You leave the gathering with a promise to hang out again and collapse into your bed, thoroughly done with all social interaction for at least a week.

~

Two weeks later you find yourself with an entire Saturday free of plans. You look down at your phone. Your conversation with Kent is at the top, your most recent text a string of emoji reacting to a picture of his youngest playing with the cat. Right after it is your conversation with Jack, your last text from him a “haha :)” in response to a funny hockey joke you had found.

Jack’s single, simple smiley face is almost as endearing as Kent's picture.

Your finger hovers between the two conversations while you deliberate.

**Option A: Text Kent**

**Option B: Text Jack**

**Option A: Text Kent**

You open the convo with Kent and shoot him a quick message. He responds immediately.

 **Kent Parson  
** _Bitty! Thank god. I’m actually kind of desperate for some help this afternoon if you don’t mind?_

 **Eric Bittle  
** _oh, sure! what exactly are you needing help with, mr. parson?_

 **Kent Parson**  
_I’m supposed to be running practice tonight and I promised the kids I would bring some kind of amazing treat, but I totally forgot and I do not have time to make anything.  
_ _Can you help a guy out?_

You’re already going through the freezer for your back-up cookie dough.

 **Eric Bittle**  
_i’ve got some cookie dough that’s ready to go! only takes ten minutes_  
_you go ahead and pre-heat the oven and i’ll be over in a jiffy!_

 **Kent Parson  
** _You are a goddamn lifesaver, Eric Bittle <3_

 **Eric Bittle  
** _oh hush_

You’re not blushing. Definitely not. Your cheeks are just a little chilled from the freezer, that’s all.

You grab both logs of dough and head next door, where Kent and Lardo’s oldest is waiting for you.

“Um, hey there Robby. Your dad inside?”

He shrugs.

“O-kay. I’ll just…head in, then?”

He rolls his eyes and walks away. You aren’t sure how to interpret the action, but it doesn’t matter—Lardo opens the front door and lets you in.

“Sorry about him. He’s been a little…moody lately.” They watch him cross the street and knock on Dex and Nursey’s door. “He’ll be fine.”

“No problem at all. I’m just here to bake some emergency cookies with your husband.”

Lardo snorts. “I told him to make something yesterday. Dumbass.” They roll their eyes, too, and you can definitely see where Robby gets it from. “Come on in. They’re in the kitchen.”

Kent has laid out two cookie sheets and you see that the oven is on and heating up. Jack is standing awkwardly next to the counter.

“I was gonna try to help Kenny out, but…I’m not very good at this stuff either.”

Kent laughs. “Seriously. We are completely hopeless. You’re saving me from bringing store bought cupcakes or something.”

“And that’s what he did last time,” Jack says, rolling his eyes. “You should probably put a reminder in your phone or something when it's your turn.”

You smile at them and set the cookie dough on the counter. “Well, this should be quick and easy, so it’s no trouble. I just need a couple spoons and a helper!”

Kent produces three spoons from the dishwasher and hands one each to you and Jack. “As much as I’d love to, Bitty, I just don’t think we have time for spooning right now.”

“I dunno, Kenny. We probably have time for spooning so long as we don’t start _forking.”_

You snort and Kent’s face turns a little red. He glances at Jack and it’s almost…shy?

 _Interesting_.

The cookies get baked in record time and somehow Kent convinces you and Jack to accompany him to the rink. You call shotgun and end up holding the warm container of cookies, letting the steam out every few minutes.

As the kids and coaches warm up, you follow Jack and find Chowder and Dex in the bleachers.

“Hey, guys. Are your girls on Kent’s team?”

Chowder pulls you down next to them and Jack follows suit. “Yep! They tend to get a little competitive during practice, though, so we try to stick around and keep an eye out.”

“Competitive, huh?” You and Jack exchange a look. “Wonder where they get that from.”

Dex reaches across Chowder and shoves your shoulder. “You can shut it, Bittle. Our girls are the best ones out there _hands-down_.”

“Absolutely.” Chowder places a hand on Dex’s knee. “They just need to…learn a little more about sportsmanship, that’s all.”

You settle in to watch the team scrimmage, both you and Jack cheering along with Chowder and Dex when one of the girls get their hands on the puck. Everyone in the small audience goes nuts when Daisy makes an impressive save and soon after the coaches are calling all the kids in for a short talk before they head back to the locker rooms.

“That was fun!” you tell Kent as soon as he’s off the ice. Jack hands over the cookies and Kent passes them on to one of the team moms.

“Come on. I need a break from the screaming.” Kent grabs your hand and leads you both down the hall, past the locker rooms and storage closets, around a corner, and into a much smaller room that turns out to be his office.

For some reason you expected to see trophies and old Aces memorabilia, but instead it’s full of family photos, little league jerseys, and way too much cat stuff for one small room.

“Literally everyone I know has gotten me some kind of cat-themed gift for my birthday every year for the past ten years.” Kent lifts a small cat-shaped pencil sharpener from his desk. “Shitty started it.”

Jack laughs. “He kept complaining about the pencil sharpener in the staff room. So instead of buying a mechanical pencil like a normal person, Shitty thought it would be funny to get him a pencil sharpener that looked like a cat. We went to four different office supply stores before he realized he could just look online.”

You take the sharpener from Kent and admire the glittery bow on the cat’s head. “To be fair, this is a much better gift than a mechanical pencil. Although.” You lift another item from his desk. “Looks like someone got you one of those, anyway?”

This time Kent laughs. “Yep. That was Jack.” Kent sends him a teasing look and Jack actually blushes. “He didn’t know where to find a mechanical pencil with cats on it, so he asked Val if he could have her pink cat eraser and then stuck it on a cheap one he got from work.”

“Val?” You cock your head to the sided.

Jack looks a little uncomfortable. “Uh. Yeah. My daughter.”

“Oh!” You glance back at a sheepish-looking Kent. “I didn’t realize.”

“She’s older than the other kids. We had her when we were really young.”

You don’t want to pry, but… “We?”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “It usually takes more than one person, Bittle.”

“Right, sorry.”

Kent rolls his eyes and takes the cat items back, returning them to his desk. “We’ve all got pasts. That’s what happens when you start getting old.”

His comment manages to break the weird tension and you smile at him.

“Hey.” He nudges you. “Thanks again for helping out tonight, Bits. I know we didn’t really get to spend much time together, but it was cool having you here.”

Jack coughs pointedly and Kent rolls his eyes, unable to hold back a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You too, Zimms.” His eyes flit between the two of you and then his smile widens. “Hey, maybe we can catch a movie tomorrow? Just the three of us?”

You bite your lip to hold back your own smile. “I think I could be up for that.”

Jack takes a moment to size you up before he says, “Yeah. That would be cool.”

Kent nods and claps you both on the shoulder. “Great. It’s a date.”

At that moment the door bursts open and three girls come running in, all shouting about Lord-knows-what, and you’re so distracted you forget to be nervous.

~

The next morning you aren’t so lucky. Your nerves decide to return at six am and you find yourself lying in bed, unable to fall back asleep.

Kent and Jack are both great. You’ve been talking to them both for weeks now and you really do like them. But…it’s been a long time since you dated somebody, let alone _two_ somebodies, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for something like this. Sure you’ve had the occasional date here and there, and it hasn’t been hard to find a partner for the night, but these are your neighbors. Your _friends_. There will be no going back from this, not really.

And it’s way too early in the morning to be thinking about this stuff, anyway.

You sigh and roll out of bed, heading directly for the coffee pot. It’s already full. Amanda comes out from her bedroom, her travel cup in hand.

“Morning, Pops. You’re up early today.”

You grunt and pour your own cup of coffee.

“Always so eloquent first thing in the morning.” She hands you the sugar. “You have a late night or something?”

“Not really,” you say through your first sip. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

She must see something in your expression because she smiles slowly. “You have fun with Jack and Kent yesterday?”

You pin her with a playful glare. “I have no idea what you’re getting at, Amanda Ann.”

She laughs and pokes your cheek. “You’re blushing! Are you seeing them again today?”

“Don’t you have to get to school, missy?”

“Hah!” She pokes you again. “I knew it!”

“You better get going! You don’t want to miss the morning announcements!”

Amanda hugs you tight and kisses your cheek. “Have fun on your _date_ , Dad.”

You usher her through the living room and out the front door. Lucien is waiting for her at the corner so they can walk together. When she’s far enough away that you can’t reach her she shouts, “Make sure to use protection! Even old people can get STIs!”

Shitty, who is just about to get into his car, shouts, “She’s right, you know! No glove, no love, brah!”

Lucien looks horrified.

“Don’t be silly, protect that willy!”

“Oh my god,” you mutter.

“It’s always sweeter when you wrap your Peter!”

“ _Dad_!” Lucien shouts, covering his face.

“Thanks, Shits, I think I’ve got it!” you call.

“If you can’t shield your rocket, leave it in your pocket!”

Amanda is just about doubled over with laughter. Lucien tugs at her arm, trying to get her to move. You shake your head and retreat back through your front door, your face on fire.

You’re just lucky it’s early enough that nobody else is awake to witness your embarrassment.

~

After a long morning of pretending to work on your latest video while watching a riveting marathon of _Real Shark Hunters of Orange County_ , you finally allow yourself to get ready for your date. You put on Beyoncé (her latest album is _revolutionary_ ) and spend the next hour and a half taking a shower, picking out the perfect outfit, and using way too much product to make your hair look effortlessly flawless.

You still have a good twenty minutes before you’re supposed to meet up with Kent and Jack, so you distract yourself on Twitter until you hear a knock at the door.

“Jack!” You’re surprised to see him—you were all going to meet at Kent’s place.

“Hey, Bittle. Want to walk over to Kenny’s together?”

You smile brightly at him. He had to pass Kent’s house to get to yours, so you know his casual air is a front.

“Absolutely, Mr. Zimmermann.” You lock the door behind you and wind your arm through his. “Lead the way!”

It only takes you about thirty seconds to get to Kent’s front door, but Jack’s blush makes the whole thing worth it. Kent opens the door just as you’re walking up and his eyes immediately hone in on your linked arms.

He grins. “Ready to go, gentlemen?”

The car ride is quick and lighthearted. You find out that Jack and Kent _both_ heard Shitty teasing you this morning because they were getting ready to go running.

“Oh, god,” you groan.

“Kent thinks we should give him a box of condoms for his birthday this year.”

You snort. “Can we wrap the box up with a condom instead of gift wrap?”

“Yes!” Kent bangs the steering wheel. “That is _genius_ , Bits!”

By the time you get into the theatre you’ve come up with an elaborate condom-themed birthday party (including the purchase of a helium tank in order to blow up condom balloons). When the movie starts you’re all still laughing so much that a kid two rows down actually turns around and _shushes_ you.

“Sorry!” you whisper.

Kent giggles and you elbow him in the ribs.

The movie itself seems pretty good, but you’re so focused on the men beside you that you barely register what’s happening. At one point you casually rest both of your arms on the arm rests, your palms facing up, and pointedly _don’t_ glance at either man. You’re not sure how long you sit like this, but your hands are definitely starting to fall asleep when you hear Kent snort next to you and then feel his fingers twining between yours. Kent’s laugh draws Jack’s attention and after a moment he’s holding your other hand and you’re smiling way too hard but you can’t stop.

When the credits roll you all stay put just in case there’s a bonus scene at the end. (There isn’t.) You unanimously decide on pizza for dinner and spend the rest of the afternoon plotting Shitty’s condom birthday.

Jack and Kent both walk you to your door when the night is over and you place a chaste kiss on both of their cheeks. Kent smiles and Jack blushes and you think that you could definitely get used to this.

[PROCEED TO [Chapter 5: Sealing the Deal](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12899844/chapters/29470077)]

 

___

 

**Option B: Text Jack**

You send Jack a message asking what he’s up to, but he doesn’t reply right away. You figure he might be busy and settle in to watch some _Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Truckers_. Of course, it’s an episode you’ve seen before, so you head into the kitchen and preheat the oven while you whip up a batch of cookie dough.

Just as you slide a sheet of cookies into the oven, your phone dings. You rush back to the living room to check, and sure enough it’s a message from Jack.

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_bittle. we need your help._

 **Eric Bittle  
** _is everything okay???_

 **Jack Zimmermann  
** _yeah, nothing’s wrong. kent just needs some baked goods for the kids._

 **Eric Bittle** _  
like, for his children?_

 **Jack Zimmermann  
** _no, for his little league team. they have practice soon and he was supposed to bring treats._

You pull out another cookie sheet and spoon out some more dough.

 **Eric Bittle  
** _got it! you boys are actually in luck—i just put some cookies in the oven. i can bring them over in like fifteen minutes?_

 **Jack Zimmermann  
** _great. thanks bittle._

You run to check your hair while the cookies bake. Twelve minutes later you’re at Kent’s door, facing down his oldest kid, a container full of hot cookies in your hand.

“Um, hey there Robby. Your dad inside?”

He shrugs.

“O-kay. I’ll just…head in, then?”

He rolls his eyes and walks away. You aren’t sure how to interpret the action, but it doesn’t matter—Lardo opens the front door and lets you in.

“Sorry about him. He’s been a little…moody lately.” They watch him cross the street and knock on Dex and Nursey’s door. “He’ll be fine.”

“No problem at all. I’m just here with some emergency cookies for your husband.”

Lardo snorts. “I told him to make something yesterday. Dumbass.” They roll their eyes, too, and you can definitely see where Robby gets it from. “Come on in, Bits.”

Kent comes out of the kitchen, followed closely by Jack.

“I was gonna try to help Kenny out, but…I’m not very good at this stuff either.”

Kent laughs. “Seriously. We are completely hopeless. You’re saving me from bringing store bought brownie bites or something.”

“And that’s what he did last time,” Lardo says, punching Kent in the arm. “You gotta stop making promises you won’t remember to keep, Kenneth.”

You laugh and hold up the container of cookies. “Well, this was quick and easy so it’s no big deal at all.”

Kent raises an eyebrow. “Your face is quick and easy.”

You narrow your eyes. “That’s what your daddy said last night.”

You both laugh as Lardo throws up their hands and leaves the room, muttering something about boys. Jack rolls his eyes, but you can definitely see the beginnings of a smile.

Somehow Kent convinces you and Jack to accompany him to the rink. You call shotgun and end up holding the warm container of cookies, letting the steam out every few minutes.

As the kids and coaches warm up, you follow Jack and find Chowder and Dex in the bleachers.

“Hey, guys. Are your girls on Kent’s team?”

Chowder pulls you down next to them and Jack follows suit. “Yep! They tend to get a little competitive during practice, though, so we try to stick around and keep an eye out.”

“Competitive, huh?” You and Jack exchange a look. “Wonder where they get that from.”

Dex reaches across Chowder and shoves your shoulder. “You can shut it, Bittle. Our girls are the best ones out there _hands-down_.”

“Absolutely.” Chowder places a hand on Dex’s knee. “They just need to…learn a little more about sportsmanship, that’s all.”

You settle in to watch the team scrimmage, both you and Jack cheering along with Chowder and Dex when one of the girls get their hands on the puck. Everyone in the small audience goes nuts when Daisy makes an impressive save and soon after the coaches are calling all the kids in for a short talk before they head back to the locker rooms.

“That was fun!” You tell Kent as soon as he’s off the ice. Jack hands over the cookies and Kent passes them on to one of the team moms.

“Come on. I need a break from the yelling.” Kent grabs your hand and leads you both down the hall, past the locker rooms and storage closets, around a corner, and then into a much smaller room that turns out to be his office.

For some reason you expected to see trophies and old Aces memorabilia, but instead it’s full of family photos, little league jerseys, and way too much cat stuff for one small room.

“Literally everyone I know has gotten me some kind of cat-themed gift for my birthday every year for the past ten years.” Kent lifts a small cat-shaped pencil sharpener from his desk. “Shitty started it.”

Jack laughs. “He kept complaining about the pencil sharpener in the staff room. So instead of buying a mechanical pencil like a normal person, Shitty thought it would be funny to get him a pencil sharpener that looked like a cat. We went to four different office supply stores before he realized he could just look online.”

You take the sharpener from Kent and admire the glittery bow on the cat’s head. “To be fair, this is a much better gift than a mechanical pencil. Although.” You lift another item from his desk. “Looks like someone got you one of those, anyway?”

This time Kent laughs. “Yep. That was Jack.” Kent sends him a teasing look and Jack actually blushes. “He didn’t know where to find a mechanical pencil with cats on it, so he asked Val if he could have her pink cat eraser and then stuck it on a cheap one he got from work.”

“Val?” You cock your head to the sided.

Jack looks a little uncomfortable. “Uh. Yeah. My daughter.”

“Oh!” You glance back at a sheepish-looking Kent. “I didn’t realize.”

“She’s older than the other kids. We had her when we were really young.”

You don’t want to pry, but… “We?”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “It usually takes more than one person, Bittle.”

“Right, sorry.”

Kent rolls his eyes and takes the cat items back, returning them to his desk. “We’ve all got pasts. That’s what happens when you start getting old.”

His comment manages to break the weird tension and you smile at him.

“Hey.” Kent nudges you. “Thanks again for helping out tonight, Bits. I know we didn’t really get to spend much time together, but it was cool having you here.”

Jack coughs pointedly and Kent rolls his eyes, unable to hold back a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You too, Zimms.” His eyes flit between the two of you and then his smile widens. “Hey, maybe we can catch a movie tomorrow? Just the three of us?”

You bite your lip to hold back your own smile. “I think I could be up for that.”

Jack takes a moment to size you up before he says, “Yeah. That would be cool.”

Kent nods and claps you both on the shoulder. “Great. It’s a date.”

At that moment the door bursts open and three girls come running in, all shouting about Lord-knows-what, and you’re so distracted you forget to be nervous.

~

The next morning you aren’t so lucky. Your nerves decide to return at six am and you find yourself lying in bed, unable to fall back asleep.

Kent and Jack are both great. You’ve been talking to them both for weeks now and you really do like them. But…it’s been a long time since you dated somebody, let alone  _two_  somebodies, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for something like this. Sure you’ve had the occasional date here and there, and it hasn’t been hard to find a partner for the night, but these are your neighbors. Your  _friends_. There will be no going back from this, not really.

And it’s way too early in the morning to be thinking about this stuff, anyway.

You sigh and roll out of bed, heading directly for the coffee pot. It’s already full. Amanda comes out from her bedroom, her travel cup in hand.

“Morning, Pops. You’re up early today.”

You grunt and pour your own cup of coffee.

“Always so eloquent first thing in the morning.” She hands you the sugar. “You have a late night or something?”

“Not really,” you say through your first sip. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

She must see something in your expression because she smiles slowly. “You have fun with Jack and Kent yesterday?”

You pin her with a playful glare. “I have no idea what you’re getting at, Amanda Ann.”

She laughs and pokes your cheek. “You’re blushing! Are you seeing them again today?”

“Don’t you have to get to school, missy?”

“Hah!” She pokes you again. “I knew it!”

“You better get going! You don’t want to miss the morning announcements!”

Amanda hugs you tight and kisses your cheek. “Have fun on your _date_ , Dad.”

You usher her through the living room and out the front door. Lucien is waiting for her at the corner so they can walk together. When she’s far enough away that you can’t reach her she shouts, “Make sure to use protection! Even old people can get STIs!”

Shitty, who is just about to get into his car, shouts, “She’s right, you know! No glove, no love, brah!”

Lucien looks horrified.

“Don’t be silly, protect that willy!”

“Oh my god,” you mutter.

“It’s always sweeter when you wrap your Peter!”

“ _Dad_!” Lucien shouts, covering his face.

“Thanks, Shits, I think I’ve got it!” you call.

“If you can’t shield your rocket, leave it in your pocket!”

Amanda is just about doubled over with laughter. Lucien tugs at her arm, trying to get her to move. You shake your head and retreat back through your front door, your face on fire.

You’re just lucky it’s early enough that nobody else is awake to witness your embarrassment.

~

After a long morning of pretending to work on your latest video while watching a riveting marathon of _Real Shark Hunters of Orange County_ , you finally allow yourself to get ready for your date. You put on Beyoncé (her latest album is _revolutionary_ ) and spend the next hour and a half taking a shower, picking out the perfect outfit, and using way too much product to make your hair look effortlessly flawless.

You still have a good twenty minutes before you’re supposed to meet up with Kent and Jack, so you distract yourself on Twitter until you hear a knock at the door.

“Jack!” You’re surprised to see him—you were all going to meet at Kent’s place.

“Hey, Bittle. Want to walk over to Kenny’s together?”

You smile brightly at him. He had to pass Kent’s house to get to yours, so you know his casual air is a front.

“Absolutely, Mr. Zimmermann.” You lock the door behind you and wind your arm through his. “Lead the way!”

It only takes you about thirty seconds to get to Kent’s front door, but Jack’s blush makes the whole thing worth it. Kent opens the door just as you’re walking up and his eyes immediately hone in on your linked arms.

He grins. “Ready to go, gentlemen?”

The car ride is quick and lighthearted. You find out that Jack and Kent _both_ heard Shitty teasing you this morning because they were getting ready to go running.

“Oh, god,” you groan.

“Kent thinks we should give him a box of condoms for his birthday this year.”

You snort. “Can we wrap the box up with a condom instead of gift wrap?”

“Yes!” Kent bangs the steering wheel. “That is _genius_ , Bits!”

By the time you get into the theatre you’ve come up with an elaborate condom-themed birthday party (including the purchase of a helium tank in order to blow up condom balloons). When the movie starts you’re all still laughing so much that a kid two rows down actually turns around and  _shushes_ you.

“Sorry!” you whisper.

Kent giggles and you elbow him in the ribs.

The movie itself seems pretty good, but you’re so focused on the men beside you that you barely register what’s happening. At one point you casually rest both of your arms on the arm rests, your palms facing up, and pointedly _don’t_ glance at either man. You’re not sure how long you sit like this, but your hands are definitely starting to fall asleep when you hear Kent snort next to you and then feel his fingers twining between yours. Kent’s laugh draws Jack’s attention and after a moment he’s holding your other hand and you’re smiling way too hard but you can’t stop.

When the credits roll you all stay put just in case there’s a bonus scene at the end. (There isn’t.) You unanimously decide on pizza for dinner and spend the rest of the afternoon plotting Shitty’s condom birthday.

Jack and Kent both walk you to your door when the night is over and you place a chaste kiss on both of their cheeks. Kent smiles and Jack blushes and you think that you could definitely get used to this.

[PROCEED TO [Chapter 5: Sealing the Deal](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12899844/chapters/29470077)]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***DO NOT USE THE "NEXT CHAPTER" BUTTONS!!!***
> 
> To follow your chosen story, make sure to navigate by clicking the links or scrolling/skipping to the directed part of the text.  
> (You won't read every chapter. That's okay. If you'd like a guide to various endings, see the final chapter of author's notes.)


	4. Dealing with Everything

Amanda slams the door to her bedroom and you head snaps up in shock. She’s been a little off lately, but you've been chalking it up to Senioritis.

This is particularly out of character, though.

You save what you’re working on and go down the hallway. Her door is closed, but it sounds like she’s crying. You knock softly.

“Go away.”

You pause. She hates it when you push, and you don’t want to bother her, but you do want her to know that you’re here for her. You knock again.

“Dad, I’m serious! Just leave me alone!”

Your hand hovers over the door, but you refrain from knocking a third time. Instead you sigh and touch the doorframe. “Okay. Just…let me know when you want to talk, okay?”

“Fine.”

The video can wait. It looks like it’s time to bake an I-Love-And-Support-You pie for your daughter.

You pull out the ingredients for your famous peach cobbler (not technically a pie, but she’ll appreciate it more) and get to work. Thankfully you still have three jars of canned peach filling that you made fresh last summer, so you dump one in a saucepan to heat and get started on the batter.

Amanda doesn’t emerge until the cobbler is in the oven. You immediately notice her puffy red eyes, but you don’t comment. Instead you hold open your arms and she crashes into you, sniffling.

“You’re making cobbler,” she says into your shoulder.

“Yep. You think I’ll be able to wrangle anyone up to help me eat it when it’s done?”

She laughs a little too quietly, but it’s a start. “I suppose I might be able to lend you a hand.”

“And a stomach?”

Her second laugh is more of a snort, which is much better. “Yes, and a stomach.”

You squeeze her as tight as you can. “Do you want to talk about it, baby?”

“I don’t know.” She pulls back and wipes the fresh tears from her eyes. “It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not stupid, sweetheart.”

She shrugs and drops into a chair at the table. “People just suck, that’s all.”

Well you can’t argue with that.

You take a moment to start a fresh pot of coffee and let her work up to talking. It doesn’t take long for her to spill.

“It’s just the Emmas are being assholes. I’m so _done_ with them, ugh, I can’t wait to go to a school that doesn’t include either of them.”

“What did they do this time, baby?”

She sighs and picks at the wicker basket full of fruit in the center of the table. “I told them that I like them.”

Oh boy. “And it didn’t go how you were hoping?”

She pulls a small piece off the basket. “Emma P. was actually pretty cool about it. Her sister is polyam, so she didn’t seem to mind.”

“But Emma R. was…?”

She huffs, then stands abruptly and pours herself a cup of the fresh coffee. She pours as much hazelnut creamer as she can fit into the mug and spoons in way more sugar than you could stand to drink. “She said I was trying to steal her girlfriend.”

You grab your own cup of coffee (with normal human amounts of cream and sugar) and tug her into a side-hug. “I’m sorry, sweetpea.”

“I just—” she huffs again and takes a sip of her coffee, her face screwing up at the taste. “Oh god, that’s gross. What the fuck.”

“Language, Amanda.”

She raises a perfect eyebrow at you and you roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. You’ve earned it. Curse all you want.”

She laughs, but her smile fades too quickly. “It just sucks. I didn’t think she would be like that, you know? She’s been my best friend _forever_ and we always joked about sharing a boyfriend when we were little and we got married in the third grade and—I just thought she would be a decent person about it.”

You pull her into a full-on hug and kiss the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, Panda. That sucks. I wish I had some wise advice, but...sometimes things just suck.”

She sets her coffee on the counter and hugs you back, tight. She doesn’t say anything else.

“You’re the best girl I know, Amanda Ann, and things are going to work out in the end. High school is...shitty, sometimes. You’re almost done, though, and soon you’ll be making all kinds of new friends and meeting all kinds of amazing people and one day it’ll click with someone, or with multiple someones, and it will be okay.”

“Thanks, Pops.” She wipes at her eyes again and then punches your shoulder. “Kinda like things have been clicking with you and a certain couple of dads on the block?”

You blush fiercely, eyes wide. “What? I have no idea what on God’s green Earth you could possibly be talkin’ about, Amanda Ann.”

She laughs. “Okay, Dad, whatever you say. Just.” Her face goes thoughtful. “Just remember that you deserve something good, too, okay? Not…endless six am walks home from two doors down.”

Damn. She’s observant, isn’t she? You smile and kiss her forehead. “Thanks, sugar. Now you go dump that monstrosity in the sink and make yourself a decent cup of coffee while I get the cobbler out of the oven.”

“You got it, Pops.”

~

After doing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen (doing your best to postpone the inevitable), you tell yourself that your daughter is definitely too smart for her own good. It’s been too many weeks and you know that you need to address whatever this thing is with Jack. You _know_ you should communicate your needs like an adult and tell him that you’re not interested in being someone’s booty call.

You really should.

But you could also call Kent and see what he’s up to. Put off that awkward conversation just a little bit longer. Go out with the guy who actually seems to enjoy talking to you.

You sigh at your contacts screen.

**Option A: Call Jack**

**Option B: Call Kent**

 

___

 

**Option A: Call Jack**

You frown at the screen for a full minute, but you decide to bite the bullet and call Jack. You press his name and watch the screen light up, waiting for the call to go through before putting the phone to your ear.

It rings. And keeps ringing. You hang up when you get to the voicemail.

You push his name on the screen a little harder this time and listen while it rings and rings and goes to voicemail again.

You end the call.

Maybe you’ll go for a walk instead. It might be nice to get some fresh air and clear your head. You put on your most comfortable walking shoes, grab your keys, and head out the door.

Of course, Kent is sitting on a blanket in his front yard with Lardo and Shitty. It’s a sunny day, and you can see that a bunch of the cul-de-sac’s kids are outside playing a game of street hockey. You do a quick double-take when you notice that Amanda is refereeing, and you can feel your face shift into a smile.

“Bitty! Brah! Come on over and have a drink!” Shitty waves you over and you’re hard-pressed to resist. You plop down next to Kent and accept the cup of orange-ish drink from Shitty.

“It’s mango lemonade,” Lardo says. “You should feel honored. This is literally the only thing you will ever see me make in the kitchen.”

You smile at them and take a sip. “Oh wow, this is amazing! What’s in here?”

“Family secret, Bittle.” They wink. “Only a few trusted confidantes have the recipe.”

You take another sip. “I suppose I can respect that. I’ll just have to figure out how to get into your inner circle.”

Shitty crows “THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!” and out of nowhere the kids all scream back “FINE!”

Lardo holds out their hand and Shitty passes them a five dollar bill with a grin. “No regrets!”

“He’s no longer allowed to make that’s-what-she-said jokes after the Great TWSS Incident back in aught-nine,” Kent says seriously.

“Ah. That must be… _hard_.” You smile brightly at Shitty.

“Yeah,” Kent grins at Shitty, too. “His last one was earlier this morning and I knew he wouldn’t be able to _go all day long_.”

Shitty glares.

“It’s too bad, really.” Lardo chimes in. “He always left me _satisfied and smiling_.”

“Ugh,” Shitty folds his arms across his chest. “Fuck all of you.”

You, Kent, and Lardo all chime “That’s what she said!” at the same time and then burst out laughing. The kids ignore you this time and continue on with their game, but you see Amanda smiling at you from Chowder’s driveway.

Shitty chugs the last of his lemonade and stands up. “I think I’m gonna go take an afternoon nap. I may or may not have spiked my lemonade with a little too much vodka.”

Lardo snorts and tips their head back to down the last of their drink, too. “I’ll come with you.”

“Go stroke his ego, babe,” Kent says, laying back in the sun.

You laugh when Lardo wiggles their eyebrows and then you lie down next to Kent.

“So were you going somewhere? Earlier?”

You turn your head towards Kent and use your hand to block the sun from your eyes. “Just a walk. Was hoping to clear my head a bit.”

He nods. “You can go if you want. I didn’t mean to pull you away from your musings.”

“I think I’d rather stay here.” You watch his face light up and feel a little warm. “This is better.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Your eyes dart toward Jack’s house without permission. Kent’s smile turns a little rueful.

“Ah. Trust me, I understand.”

That’s news to you. “Really? You two…?”

“Oh, Bittle, you have no idea.” He laughs, but it’s not a happy sound. “I’ll tell you the whole story someday if you want, but…yeah. I understand.”

You nod. “So he’s always been like this?”

“More or less. He had a lot of pressure at a young age, blah blah blah. You know the drill. Let’s just say he has issues with letting people in. Even people who have been in his life since literal childhood.”

Wow. There’s definitely a story there. “Dang.”

“Yeah.” He laughs again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the nice vibe.”

“Don’t worry about it, sugar.” You turn your face back up and close your eyes against the sun. Kent’s finger brushes yours on the blanket. You take his hand and squeeze it tight.

He squeezes back and you think maybe you’ll be good for each other.                                                                                                            

~

You’re lying in bed when you get a text from Jack.

 **Jack Zimmerman  
** _bittle_

You ignore it.

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_bittle_  
_i saw your light on two minutes ago_  
_i know you’re awake  
_ _let me in?_

 **Eric Bittle  
** _i’m tired, jack_

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_aw_  
_come on_  
_i can help you wake up ;)  
_ _i’m at your door already so you might as well let me in_

You groan and throw the blankets off. Apparently you’re doing this now.

“Jack,” you say, stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind you.

“Hey.” He grins. It kind of lights up his face and for a minute you forget what you were going to say.

But he touches your hip and you suddenly remember.

“Jack, no.”

He pulls back, his smile immediately disappearing.

“I’m sorry, Jack. I can’t keep doing this.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“I like you. I’d like to get to know you. But I can’t…I don’t want to keep doing this casual thing with you, okay?”

You watch his jaw tighten. He swallows and then nods. “Okay. That’s…fine. I’ll see you around.”

“Jack—”

He doesn’t stop.

You sigh and go back inside, closing the door a little too forcefully.

At least it’s done now.

~

It’s a week later and you haven’t heard anything from Kent. Not since you laid in the grass and held hands while the kids played in the street. Maybe he’s been busy?

You’re starting to wonder if something is wrong when you run into him at the movie theatre. He’s standing in the concession line with Lardo and Shitty and he’s got his arm around--oh. Jack.

That stings a lot more than you would have expected.

You look down at your ticket. You should probably just go. You’re not really ready to confront Jack and Kent’s week of silence has sent a pretty clear message.

“Bitty! Brah!”

Damn. So close.

You take a deep breath, put on your best smile, and look up at them. Jack looks frozen to the spot, Kent’s eyes are wide, and Lardo is positively glaring at you. She grabs Jack by the arm and pulls him away toward the theatres. Shitty seems to be confused by their sudden departure, but he claps you on the back as soon as you reach him.

“Good to see you, buddy! What are you seeing?”

You hold up your ticket. “That new superhero team-up.”

“Aw, man! I was hoping we’d be seeing the same thing. You sure you don’t want to do a romantic comedy? You can sit with us!”

You glance at Kent and he shakes his head minutely.

Right.

“Sorry, Shits. I’ve been waiting to see this one for weeks. Maybe next time.”

You turn and head for your theatre.

“Bitty.” Kent catches your arm. “Can we…can I talk to you for a minute? Please?”

Shitty raises an eyebrow but Kent doesn’t look at him. He’s looking straight at you, eyes pleading, and you can’t say no.

“Sure. Come on.”

He follows you to a secluded corner of the lobby.

“I got the message, Kent. I won’t bother you guys. This was an honest coincidence, I swear.”

He shakes his head. “No, that’s not…look. I want to apologize to you.”

You purse your lips. “Oh?”

“I’m sorry I ghosted you. That was probably not the best way to—it’s just been a really rough week. Especially for Jack.”

You scoff. “Oh, I’m sure it’s been real hard on him.”

“You don’t know—”

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side! After last weekend I thought…you made it seem like there was something between us.”

“It’s not about you and me, Bitty, I swear. I had to be there for Jack.” He lets out a breath. “He needed me.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “Well he got you, didn’t he?”

“He had a relapse, Bitty! Okay? And I’m sorry but Jack has been my best friend for like thirty years and I’m going to have his back.”

You don’t know the whole story so you’re not sure what he relapsed in, but you sure as hell aren’t going to let Kent Parson blame it on you.

“Now look here, Mr. Parson. You have no right—I am allowed to stand up for myself! It is _not_ my fault that Jack had a bad reaction to me refusing to sleep with him again!”

Kent’s eyes are wide again. “Jesus Christ, Bittle, that’s not what I’m saying! God. It’s not about blame. I just—I can’t abandon him, okay? Not ever again.”

There’s clearly a lot to this story that Kent promised he would tell you some day. Looks like that isn’t going to happen any time soon.

“Fine,” you say. “Go take care of Jack. I’m—I understand that he needs you.” You look up at the ceiling and take a deep breath. “I’m just gonna go. Y’all enjoy your movie.”

“Bitty.”

“No. It’s fine. I just can’t be here right now.”

He nods and you take that as your cue to leave.

You don’t bother getting your money back for the ticket—you head straight out the door and to your car without looking back.

~

Amanda finds you a few hours later. You’re not even sure what’s on the TV—you’ve just been lying on the couch reading through your Twitter feed and pretending your problems don’t exist.

“You okay there, Pops?”

You look up from your phone. “Hey, Panda. I’ll be fine, honey, don’t you worry.”

She frowns at you. “You look terrible.”

That startles a laugh out of you. “Wow. Such love and support from my one and only child.”

“I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” She sits next to you and puts a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously, Dad. Are you okay?”

You look at her, your almost-adult daughter, and remember how perceptive she can be. You laugh. “No. I’m not okay.” You put an arm around her shoulders and pull her close, your eyes watering. “Everything kind of sucks right now.”

She hugs you back and tucks her head against your shoulder. “Yeah. I get that. The world is pretty much a shitshow, isn’t it?”

You smile and lean your head against hers. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Not right now.”

“Do you want to put on _Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers_?”

“Definitely.”

She flips the channel and leans over to pull the blanket from the back of the couch.

As you curl up watch your favorite show together, you do your best to put Kent and Jack out of your mind. Things with them may never be the same again, but you’ll move on. You always do.

And even if you don’t, well…at least your daughter loves you.

 

[END]

 

\---

 

**Option B: Call Kent**

You frown at the screen for a full minute and eventually decide to call Kent. You can deal with the Jack stuff later.

Kent picks up on the first ring. “Bitty!”

You smile. “Hey, Kent!”

“What’s up, man?”

“Oh I just wanted to see if you had anything going on today.”

“Dude, we’re just hanging out in the front yard. You should come over! The kids are all playing hockey and Lardo made her famous lemonade.”

It might be nice to get some fresh air. You slip on your shoes and head for the front door. “That sounds perfect. I’ll be right over!”

Kent is sitting in on a blanket in his front yard with Lardo and Shitty. It’s a nice day, and you can see why the kids would want to be outside playing street hockey. You do a quick double-take when you notice that Amanda is refereeing, and you can feel your face shift into a fond smile.

“Bitty!” Kent is waving at you. “Come have a drink!”

You plop down next to him on the blanket and accept the cup of orange-ish drink from Shitty.

“It’s mango lemonade,” Lardo says. “You should feel honored. This is literally the only thing you will ever see me make in the kitchen.”

You smile at them and take a sip. “Oh wow, this is amazing! What’s in here?”

“Family secret, Bittle.” They wink. “Only a few trusted confidantes have the recipe.”

You take another sip. “I suppose I can respect that. I’ll just have to figure out how to get into your inner circle.”

Shitty crows “THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!” and out of nowhere the kids all scream back “FINE!”

Lardo holds out their hand and Shitty passes them a five dollar bill with a grin. “No regrets!”

“He’s no longer allowed to make that’s-what-she-said jokes after the Great TWSS Incident back in aught-nine,” Kent says seriously.

“Ah. That must be… _hard_.” You smile brightly at Shitty.

“Yeah,” Kent grins at Shitty, too. “His last one was earlier this morning and I knew he wouldn’t be able to _go all day long_.”

Shitty glares.

“It’s too bad, really.” Lardo chimes in. “He always left me _satisfied and smiling_.”

“Ugh,” Shitty folds his arms across his chest. “Fuck all of you.”

You, Kent, and Lardo all chime “That’s what she said!” at the same time and then burst out laughing. The kids ignore you this time and continue on with their game, but you see Amanda smiling at you from Chowder’s driveway.

Shitty chugs the last of his lemonade and stands up. “I think I’m gonna go take an afternoon nap. I may or may not have spiked my lemonade with a little too much vodka.”

Lardo snorts and tips their head back to down the last of their drink, too. “I’ll come with you.”

“Go stroke his ego, babe,” Kent says, laying back in the sun.

You laugh when Lardo wiggles their eyebrows and then you lie down next to Kent.

“So were you going somewhere? Earlier?”

You turn your head towards Kent and use your hand to block the sun from your eyes. “Just a walk. Was hoping to clear my head a bit.”

He nods. “You can go if you want. I didn’t mean to pull you away from your musings.”

“I think I’d rather stay here.” You watch his face light up and feel a little warm. “This is better.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Your eyes dart toward Jack’s house without permission. Kent’s smile turns a little rueful.

“Ah. Trust me, I understand.”

That’s news to you. “Really? You two…?”

“Oh, Bittle, you have no idea.” He laughs, but it’s not a happy sound. “I’ll tell you the whole story someday if you want, but…yeah. I understand.”

You nod. “So he’s always been like this?”

“More or less. He had a lot of pressure at a young age, blah blah blah. You know the drill. Let’s just say he has issues with letting people in. Even people who have been in his life since literal childhood.”

Wow. There’s definitely a story there. “Dang.”

“Yeah.” He laughs again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the nice vibe.”

“Don’t worry about it, sugar.” You turn your face back up and close your eyes against the sun. Kent’s finger brushes yours on the blanket. You take his hand and squeeze it tight.

He squeezes back and you think maybe you’ll be good for each other.                                                                                                            

~

You’re lying in bed when you get a text from Jack.

 **Jack Zimmerman  
** _bittle_

You ignore it.

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_bittle_  
_i saw your light on two minutes ago_  
_i know you’re awake  
_ _let me in?_

 **Eric Bittle  
** _i’m tired, jack_

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_aw_  
_come on_  
_i can help you wake up ;)  
_ _i’m at your door already so you might as well let me in_

You groan and throw the blankets off. Apparently you’re doing this now.

“Jack,” you say, stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind you.

“Hey.” He grins. It kind of lights up his face and for a minute you forget what you were going to say.

But he touches your hip and you suddenly remember.

“Jack, no.”

He pulls back, his smile immediately disappearing.

“I’m sorry, Jack. I can’t keep doing this.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“I like you. I’d like to get to know you. But I can’t…I don’t want to keep doing this casual thing with you, okay?”

You watch his jaw tighten. He swallows and then nods. “Okay. That’s...fine. I’ll see you around.”

“Jack—”

He doesn’t stop.

You sigh and go back inside, closing the door a little too forcefully.

At least it’s done now.

~

It’s a week later and you haven’t heard anything from Kent. Not since you laid in the grass and held hands while the kids played in the street. Maybe he’s been busy?

You’re starting to wonder if something is wrong when you run into him at the movie theatre. He’s standing in the concession line with Lardo and Shitty and he’s got his arm around--oh. Jack.

That stings a lot more than you would have expected.

You look down at your ticket. You should probably just go. You’re not really ready to confront Jack and Kent’s week of silence has sent a pretty clear message.

“Bitty! Brah!”

Damn. So close.

You take a deep breath, put on your best smile, and look up at them. Jack looks frozen to the spot, Kent’s eyes are wide, and Lardo is positively glaring at you. She grabs Jack by the arm and pulls him away toward the theatres. Shitty seems to be confused by their sudden departure, but he claps you on the back as soon as you reach him.

“Good to see you, buddy! What are you seeing?”

You hold up your ticket. “That new superhero team-up.”

“Aw, man! I was hoping we’d be seeing the same thing. You sure you don’t want to do a romantic comedy? You can sit with us!”

You glance at Kent and he shakes his head minutely.

Right.

“Sorry, Shits. I’ve been waiting to see this one for weeks. Maybe next time.”

You turn and head for your theatre.

“Bitty.” Kent catches your arm. “Can we…can I talk to you for a minute? Please?”

Shitty raises an eyebrow but Kent doesn’t look at him. He’s looking straight at you, eyes pleading, and you can’t say no.

“Sure. Come on.”

He follows you to a secluded corner of the lobby.

“I got the message, Kent. I won’t bother you guys. This was an honest coincidence, I swear.”

He shakes his head. “No, that’s not…look. I want to apologize to you.”

You purse your lips. “Oh?”

“I’m sorry I ghosted you. That was probably not the best way to—it’s just been a really rough week. Especially for Jack.”

You scoff. “Oh, I’m sure it’s been real hard on him.”

“You don’t know—”

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side! After last weekend I thought…you made it seem like there was something between us.”

“It’s not about you and me, Bitty, I swear. I had to be there for Jack.” He lets out a breath. “He needed me.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “Well he got you, didn’t he?”

“He had a relapse, Bitty! Okay? And I’m sorry but Jack has been my best friend for like thirty years and I’m going to have his back.”

You don’t know the whole story so you’re not sure what he relapsed in, but you sure as hell aren’t going to let Kent Parson blame it on you.

“Now look here, Mr. Parson. You have no right—I am allowed to stand up for myself! It is _not_ my fault that Jack had a bad reaction to me refusing to sleep with him again!”

Kent’s eyes are wide again. “Jesus Christ, Bittle, that’s not what I’m saying! God. It’s not about blame. I just—I can’t abandon him, okay? Not ever again.”

There’s clearly a lot to this story that Kent promised he would tell you some day. Looks like that isn’t going to happen any time soon.

“Fine,” you say. “Go take care of Jack. I’m—I understand that he needs you.” You look up at the ceiling and take a deep breath. “I’m just gonna go. Y’all enjoy your movie.”

“Bitty.”

“No. It’s fine. I just can’t be here right now.”

He nods and you take that as your cue to leave.

You don’t bother getting your money back for the ticket—you head straight out the door and to your car without looking back.

~

Amanda finds you a few hours later. You’re not even sure what’s on the TV—you’ve just been lying on the couch reading through your Twitter feed and pretending your problems don’t exist.

“You okay there, Pops?”

You look up from your phone. “Hey, Panda. I’ll be fine, honey, don’t you worry.”

She frowns at you. “You look terrible.”

That startles a laugh out of you. “Wow. Such love and support from my one and only child.”

“I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” She sits next to you and puts a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously, Dad. Are you okay?”

You look at her, your almost-adult daughter, and remember how perceptive she can be. You laugh. “No. I’m not okay.” You put an arm around her shoulders and pull her close, your eyes watering. “Everything kind of sucks right now.”

She hugs you back and tucks her head against your shoulder. “Yeah. I get that. The world is pretty much a shitshow, isn’t it?”

You smile and lean your head against hers. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Not right now.”

“Do you want to put on _Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers_?”

“Definitely.”

She flips the channel and leans over to pull the blanket from the back of the couch.

As you curl up watch your favorite show together, you do your best to put Kent and Jack out of your mind. Things with them may never be the same again, but you’ll move on. You always do.

And even if you don’t, well…at least your daughter loves you.

 

[END]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***DO NOT USE THE "NEXT CHAPTER" BUTTONS!!!***
> 
> To follow your chosen story, make sure to navigate by clicking the links or scrolling/skipping to the directed part of the text.  
> (You won't read every chapter. That's okay. If you'd like a guide to various endings, see the final chapter of author's notes.)


	5. Sealing the Deal

Amanda slams the door to her bedroom and you head snaps up in shock. She’s been a little off lately, but you've been chalking it up to Senioritis.

This is particularly out of character, though.

You save what you’re working on and go down the hallway. Her door is closed, but it sounds like she’s crying. You knock softly.

“Go away.”

You pause. She hates it when you push, and you don’t want to bother her, but you do want her to know that you’re here for her. You knock again.

“Dad, I’m serious! Just leave me alone!”

Your hand hovers over the door, but you refrain from knocking a third time. Instead you sigh and touch the doorframe. “Okay. Just…let me know when you want to talk, okay?”

“Fine.”

The video can wait. It looks like it’s time to bake an I-Love-And-Support-You pie for your daughter.

You pull out the ingredients for your famous peach cobbler (not technically a pie, but she’ll appreciate it more) and get to work. Thankfully you still have three jars of canned peach filling that you made fresh last summer, so you dump one in a saucepan to heat and get started on the batter.

Amanda doesn’t emerge until the cobbler is in the oven. You immediately notice her puffy red eyes, but you don’t comment. Instead you hold open your arms and she crashes into you, sniffling.

“You’re making cobbler,” she says into your shoulder.

“Yep. You think I’ll be able to wrangle anyone up to help me eat it when it’s done?”

She laughs a little too quietly, but it’s a start. “I suppose I might be able to lend you a hand.”

“And a stomach?”

Her second laugh is more of a snort, which is much better. “Yes, and a stomach.”

You squeeze her as tight as you can. “Do you want to talk about it, baby?”

“I don’t know.” She pulls back and wipes the fresh tears from her eyes. “It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not stupid, sweetheart.”

She shrugs and drops into a chair at the table. “People just suck, that’s all.”

Well you can’t argue with that.

You take a moment to start a fresh pot of coffee and let her work up to talking. It doesn’t take long for her to spill.

“It’s just the Emmas are being assholes. I’m so _done_ with them, ugh, I can’t wait to go to a school that doesn’t include either of them.”

“What did they do this time, baby?”

She sighs and picks at the wicker basket full of fruit in the center of the table. “I told them that I like them.”

Oh boy. “And it didn’t go how you were hoping?”

She pulls a small piece off the basket. “Emma P. was actually pretty cool about it. Her sister is polyam, so she didn’t seem to mind.”

“But Emma R. was…?”

She huffs, then stands abruptly and pours herself a cup of the fresh coffee. She pours as much hazelnut creamer as she can fit into the mug and spoons in way more sugar than you could stand to drink. “She said I was trying to steal her girlfriend.”

You grab your own cup of coffee (with normal human amounts of cream and sugar) and tug her into a side-hug. “I’m sorry, sweetpea.”

“I just—” she huffs again and takes a sip of her coffee, her face screwing up at the taste. “Oh god, that’s gross. What the fuck.”

“Language, Amanda.”

She raises a perfect eyebrow at you and you roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. You’ve earned it. Curse all you want.”

She laughs, but her smile fades too quickly. “It just sucks. I didn’t think she would be like that, you know? She’s been my best friend _forever_ and we always joked about sharing a boyfriend when we were little and we got married in the third grade and—I just thought she would be a decent person about it.”

You pull her into a full-on hug and kiss the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, Panda. That sucks. I wish I had some wise advice, but…sometimes things just suck.”

She sets her coffee on the counter and hugs you back, tight. She doesn’t say anything else.

“You’re the best girl I know, Amanda Ann, and things are going to work out in the end. High school is...shitty, sometimes. You’re almost done, though, and soon you’ll be making all kinds of new friends and meeting all kinds of amazing people and one day it’ll click with someone, or with multiple someones, and it will be okay.”

“Thanks, Pops.” She wipes at her eyes again and then punches your shoulder. “Kinda like things have been clicking with you and a certain couple of dads on the block?”

You blush fiercely, eyes wide. “What? I have no idea what on God’s green Earth you could possibly be talkin’ about, Amanda Ann.”

She laughs. “Okay, Dad, whatever you say. Just.” Her face goes thoughtful. “Just remember that you deserve something good, too, okay? Make sure any potential suitors know that.”

You smile and kiss her forehead. “Thanks, Panda. Now you go dump that monstrosity in the sink and make yourself a decent cup of coffee while I get the cobbler out of the oven.”

“You got it, Pops.”

~

After doing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen you tell yourself that your daughter is too smart for her own good. It’s been a few weeks since your first date with Jack and Kent and you’ve all been out several times since then, but you have yet to actually discuss the changing relationship. Which means it’s probably time for The Talk.

You pull out your phone and stare down at it, thinking.

**Option A: Text Kent and Jack**

**Option B: Take a walk instead**

 

**Option A: Text Kent and Jack**

It’s probably time to bite the bullet. You open the group chat.

 **Eric Bittle**  
_hey guys. what’re you up to today?_

 **Kent Parson**  
_Chillin’ outsite while the kids play.  
You should come out here, man!_

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_it’s actually a really nice day_

You’re already slipping on your shoes and grabbing your sunglasses from the bowl next to the door.

Kent and Jack are sitting on a blanket in Kent’s front yard with Lardo and Shitty. It really is a nice day, and you can see why the kids would want to be outside playing street hockey. You do a quick double-take when you notice that Amanda is refereeing, and you can feel your face shift into a fond smile.

“Bitty!” Kent is waving at you. “Come have a drink!”

You plop down next to Jack on the blanket and accept a cup of orange-ish drink from Shitty.

“It’s mango lemonade,” Lardo says. “You should feel honored. This is literally the only thing you will ever see me make in the kitchen.”

You smile at them and take a sip. “Oh wow, this is amazing! What’s in here?”

“Family secret, Bittle.” They wink. “Only a few trusted confidantes have the recipe.”

You take another sip. “I suppose I can respect that. I’ll just have to figure out how to get into your inner circle.”

Shitty crows “THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!” and out of nowhere the kids all scream back “FINE!”

Lardo holds out their hand and Shitty passes them a five dollar bill with a grin. “No regrets!”

“There was an incident several years ago.” Jack looks like he’s about to laugh. “Shitty isn’t allowed to make That’s What She Said jokes anymore.”

“Ah.” You smile brightly at Shitty. “That must be… _hard_.”

“Yeah,” Kent grins at Shitty, too. “His last one was earlier this morning and I knew he wouldn’t be able to _go all day long_.”

Shitty glares.

“It’s too bad, really.” Lardo chimes in. “He always left me _satisfied and smiling_.”

“Ugh,” Shitty folds his arms across his chest. “Fuck all of you.”

You, Kent, Jack, and Lardo all chime “That’s what she said!” at the same time and then burst out laughing. The kids ignore you this time and continue on with their game, but you see Amanda smiling at you from Chowder’s driveway.

Shitty chugs the last of his lemonade and stands up. “I think I’m gonna go take an afternoon nap. I may or may not have spiked my lemonade with a little too much vodka.”

Lardo snorts and tips their head back to down the last of their drink, too. “I’ll come with you.”

“Go stroke his ego, babe,” Kent says, laying back in the sun.

You laugh when Lardo wiggles their eyebrows and then you lie down next to Kent. Jack stays sitting up, but he leans back on his arm and smiles down at you.

“You have to do anything today, Bittle?” Jack asks.

You smile back at him. “Nope. Just hangin’ out with you guys.”

“I would call that _doing something_ ,” Kent says.

You elbow him in the side. “You know what I mean.”

Kent makes grabby hands at Jack’s arm. “Lie down with us, Zimms. Get some sunshine on that gorgeous bod.”

Jack rolls his eyes but complies, stretching out next to Kent. “You’re ridiculous, Kenny.”

“Aw, but you love me anyway.”

Jack doesn’t reply, but the affection in his gaze speaks volumes.

You think this might be your time.

“Hey. Boys?”

They both turn toward you.

“This is…well. What is this? Um, us. What is this with us?”

Okay. That wasn’t exactly the clearest question. They both seem to understand, though, and they don’t ask you to clarify.

“This is good,” Kent says, reaching over and squeezing your hand.

Jack looks like he agrees and you give them each a fond look. “True.”

“What do you want this to be, Bittle?” Jack asks.

You sigh. “I want…” What do you want? “I want it to be something official, I think.”

The way Kent’s face lights up is unexpected in the best way. “You want to be our boyfriend?”

Before you can reply, Jack gives you a hopeful look. “Do you?”

“I…yes.” Oh. Well that was actually a lot easier than you thought it would be.

They’re both grinning at you. Kent reaches over to touch your cheek and pulls you in for a soft kiss. Jack is right behind him with a kiss of his own and it feels like you just sealed the deal.

You grin back at them. “Good. Yes. This is good.”

The rest of the afternoon passes slowly. The kids play in the street, the other adults come and go, and you lie in the sun with your two new boyfriends.

It’s perfect.

~

**Kent Parson  
** _I miss you :( :( :(_

**Jack Zimmermann**  
_you just saw him yesterday_

 **Eric Bittle**  
_how do you know he wasn’t talking to you, mr. zimmermann?_

 **Kent Parson**  
_[crying laughing emoji] He wishes._

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_it’s hard to miss someone you’ve seen basically every day for the last thirty years_

 **Eric Bittle**  
_sweet lord you’ve known each other for a long time_

 **Kent Parson**  
_So you can see why I miss you and not him [winking emoji]_

**Jack Zimmermann  
** _i CAN still read this you know_

**Kent Parson  
** _What? You can???? I had NO idea!!!!!!_

**Eric Bittle**  
_you two are ridiculous_

 **Kent Parson**  
_Eh, you like us anyway._

**Jack Zimmermann  
** _you know he’s literally right next door to you, parse. you could go see him any time._

**Kent Parson**  
_Yes, but where’s the romance in that? I’m supposed to miss him terribly in order for my heart to grow fonder! [growing heart emoji]_

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_is that how it works? maybe i should try spending some time away from you :-P_

 **Eric Bittle**  
_smh what on earth am i going to do with you two?_

Amanda finds you in the living room, smiling down at your phone. She grins and plops down next to you.

“Don’t you even start, Amanda Ann.”

She puts on her most innocent face. “I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about, Daddio.”

You roll your eyes and tuck your phone back in your pocket. “Mm hmm. Sure you don’t.”

She leans her head against your shoulder. “Seriously, Pops. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks, baby.” You wrap an arm around her and pull her close. “I think I’m happy for me, too.”

Amanda grabs the remote and turns on the TV. “You wanna watch a bunch of children try to cook shit?”

You laugh. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

She flips to the station with food competitions and snuggles in. “I love you, Dad.”

Even if things with Kent and Jack hadn’t worked out in your favor, you’d still be one of the luckiest guys on the planet. You have the best daughter in the world.

You press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you too, Manda Panda.”

 

[END]

 

\---

 

**Option B: Take a walk instead**

The thing is, talking about feelings is _hard_ and you’d really rather wait for one of them to bring it up. Maybe you’ll go for a walk instead. It might be nice to get some fresh air and clear your head.

You put on your most comfortable walking shoes, grab your keys, and head out the door.

Of course, Kent and Jack are sitting in on a blanket in Kent’s front yard with Lardo and Shitty. It’s a sunny day, and you can see that a bunch of the cul-de-sac’s kids are outside playing a game of street hockey. You do a quick double-take when you notice that Amanda is refereeing, and you can feel your face shift into a smile.

“Bitty! Brah! Come on over and have a drink!” Shitty waves you over and you’re hard-pressed to resist. You plop down next to Jack on the blanket and accept a cup of orange-ish drink from Shitty.

“It’s mango lemonade,” Lardo says. “You should feel honored. This is literally the only thing you will ever see me make in the kitchen.”

You smile at them and take a sip. “Oh wow, this is amazing! What’s in here?”

“Family secret, Bittle.” They wink. “Only a few trusted confidantes have the recipe.”

You take another sip. “I suppose I can respect that. I’ll just have to figure out how to get into your inner circle.”

Shitty crows “THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!” and out of nowhere the kids all scream back “FINE!”

Lardo holds out their hand and Shitty passes them a five dollar bill with a grin. “No regrets!”

“There was an incident several years ago.” Jack looks like he’s about to laugh. “Shitty isn’t allowed to make That’s What She Said jokes anymore.”

“Ah.” You smile brightly at Shitty. “That must be… _hard_.”

“Yeah,” Kent grins at Shitty, too. “His last one was earlier this morning and I knew he wouldn’t be able to _go all day long_.”

Shitty glares.

“It’s too bad, really.” Lardo chimes in. “He always left me _satisfied and smiling_.”

“Ugh,” Shitty folds his arms across his chest. “Fuck all of you.”

You, Kent, Jack, and Lardo all chime “That’s what she said!” at the same time and then burst out laughing. The kids ignore you this time and continue on with their game, but you see Amanda smiling at you from Chowder’s driveway.

Shitty chugs the last of his lemonade and stands up. “I think I’m gonna go take an afternoon nap. I may or may not have spiked my lemonade with a little too much vodka.”

Lardo snorts and tips their head back to down the last of their drink, too. “I’ll come with you.”

“Go stroke his ego, babe,” Kent says, laying back in the sun.

You laugh when Lardo wiggles their eyebrows and then you lie down next to Kent. Jack stays sitting up, but he leans back on his arm and smiles down at you.

“You have to do anything today, Bittle?” Jack asks.

You smile back at him. “Nope. Just hangin’ out with you guys.”

“I would call that _doing something_ ,” Kent says.

You elbow him in the side. “You know what I mean.”

Kent makes grabby hands at Jack’s arm. “Lie down with us, Zimms. Get some sunshine on that gorgeous bod.”

Jack rolls his eyes but complies, stretching out next to Kent. “You’re ridiculous, Kenny.”

“Aw, but you love me anyway.”

Jack doesn’t reply, but the affection in his gaze speaks volumes and you realize that you can do this after all.

“Hey. Boys?”

They both turn toward you.

“This is…well. What is this? Um, us. What is this with us?”

Okay. That wasn’t exactly the clearest question. They both seem to understand, though, and they don’t ask you to clarify.

“This is good,” Kent says, reaching over and squeezing your hand.

Jack looks like he agrees and you give them each a fond look. “True.”

“What do you want this to be, Bittle?” Jack asks.

You sigh. “I want…” What do you want? “I want it to be something official, I think.”

The way Kent’s face lights up is unexpected in the best way. “You want to be our boyfriend?”

Before you can reply, Jack gives you a hopeful look. “Do you?”

“I…yes.” Oh. Well that was actually a lot easier than you thought it would be.

They’re both grinning at you. Kent reaches over to touch your cheek and pulls you in for a soft kiss. Jack is right behind him with a kiss of his own and it feels like you just sealed the deal.

You grin back at them. “Good. Yes. This is good.”

The rest of the afternoon passes slowly. The kids play in the street, the other adults come and go, and you lie in the sun with your two new boyfriends.

It’s perfect.

~

**Kent Parson  
** _I miss you :( :( :(_

**Jack Zimmermann**  
_you just saw him yesterday_

 **Eric Bittle**  
_how do you know he wasn’t talking to you, mr. zimmermann?_

 **Kent Parson**  
_[crying laughing emoji] He wishes._

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_it’s hard to miss someone you’ve seen basically every day for the last thirty years_

 **Eric Bittle**  
_sweet lord you’ve known each other for a long time_

 **Kent Parson**  
_So you can see why I miss you and not him [winking emoji]_

**Jack Zimmermann  
** _i CAN still read this you know_

**Kent Parson  
** _What? You can???? I had NO idea!!!!!!_

**Eric Bittle**  
_you two are ridiculous_

 **Kent Parson**  
_Eh, you like us anyway._

**Jack Zimmermann  
** _you know he’s literally right next door to you, parse. you could go see him any time._

**Kent Parson**  
_Yes, but where’s the romance in that? I’m supposed to miss him terribly in order for my heart to grow fonder! [growing heart emoji]_

 **Jack Zimmermann**  
_is that how it works? maybe i should try spending some time away from you :-P_

 **Eric Bittle**  
_smh what on earth am i going to do with you two?_

Amanda finds you in the living room, smiling down at your phone. She grins and plops down next to you.

“Don’t you even start, Amanda Ann.”

She puts on her most innocent face. “I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about, Daddio.”

You roll your eyes and tuck your phone back in your pocket. “Mm hmm. Sure you don’t.”

She leans her head against your shoulder. “Seriously, Pops. I’m really happy for you.”

“Aww, thanks, baby.” You wrap an arm around her and pull her close. “I think I’m happy for me, too.”

Amanda grabs the remote and turns on the TV. “You wanna watch a bunch of children try to cook shit?”

You laugh. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

She flips to the station with food competitions and snuggles in. “I love you, Dad.”

Even if things with Kent and Jack hadn’t worked out in your favor, you’d still be one of the luckiest guys on the planet. You have the best daughter in the world.

You press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you too, Manda Panda.”

 

[END]

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***DO NOT USE THE "NEXT CHAPTER" BUTTONS!!!***
> 
> To follow your chosen story, make sure to navigate by clicking the links or scrolling/skipping to the directed part of the text.  
> (You won't read every chapter. That's okay. If you'd like a guide to various endings, see the final chapter of author's notes.)


	6. Author's Notes

 

I have a lot of thoughts for this verse and might decide to write a few one-shots! If you're curious about anything, feel free to drop me a line--I'm always happy to share headcanons and verse-related ideas :)

I've put my character table below to help y'all visualize who is who.

Fun side note: Kent and Lardo's kids are named Robby, Waine, Cydney, and Gene. (After Bad Bob, Gretzky, Crosby, and Malkin.)

**DD Character** | **Character** | **Age** | **Job**  
---|---|---|---  
Dadsona | Bitty | 38 | youtube star  
Robert | Jack | 42 | retired NHL  
Joseph | Kent | 43 | retired  
Mary | Lardo | 39 | artist  
Mat | Nursey | 37 | poet/cafe owner  
Brian | Dex | 36 | owns hardware store  
Hugo | Ransom | 39 | teaches biology  
Craig | Chowder | 37 | retired NHL  
Damien | Shitty | 40 | lawyer  
n/a | Holster | 41 | owns Totster's  
n/a | Tater | 40 | retired NHL/owns Totster's  
  
 

***SPOILERS***

For a happy ending: don't sleep with Jack on the first night

For a not-so-happy ending: sleep with Jack on the first night

**Author's Note:**

> Come reblog this work and view others from this fest [HERE](https://pbj-epifest.tumblr.com/) on the PB&J Epifest tumblr page!


End file.
